


Just A Quickie...

by BrattyAmericat, Orchid_Kasumi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Ghost Sex, M/M, Macrophilia, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Pony Play, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrattyAmericat/pseuds/BrattyAmericat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orchid_Kasumi/pseuds/Orchid_Kasumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my Hetalia, one shot, PWP, fan-fics, centered around various pairings. Individual summaries and warnings will be provided at the beginning of each chapter, so enjoy the smut!</p><p>Newest Chapter Summary: Dead and Loving It: France/Canada: Matthew William doesn't believe in ghost... But oh boy, is he ever proven wrong when the former, deceased, plantation owner, Francis Bonneyfoy, decides to have his way with him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frills, Fairies, and Frustrations (France/England)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon a chance meeting, England and France try to spend some 'enjoyable' time together.... but the naughty, naughty fey keep getting in the way! (Edited.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors: BrattyAmericat, Orchid_Kasumi
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content, Macrophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Voyeurism, Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial

France had not expected to LITERIALLY run into England at the ball that night, and judging by the look on the other nation’s face, he doubted that the British pirate had been expecting to see his long-time rival there either…. Of course, the surprised could have also probably have been attributed to the fact that Francis was dressed in full out drag; a pink, flowing gown with more ruffles then one could count.

After a few drinks, as well as the expected, traded insults, the two adolescent nations left to find a free room that they could fool around in for a bit, like they were prone to do, from time to time.... when they weren’t currently at war. Shutting the door to the random bedroom they had chosen behind them, Francis turned gracefully on his heels, (despite all the drinks that he had already had,) wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck, and leaned forward to press his soft, painted, pink lips to the other young man’s mouth.

The dress and corset that France wore gave the man false, feminine curves, but as he pressed his body firmly against England’s, flat chest to flat chest, as well as a hard bulge poking through all the ruffles and jabbing the other in the hip, there was no mistaking that, no matter how pretty he may be all dolled up and in make up, Francis was still a man.

Smirking to himself and not at all dissuaded, Arthur kissed back, eagerly stepping forward to take the lead and tease his tongue into the French man’s welcoming mouth. France purred, allowing England to claim his mouth, then let out a pleased hum as Arthur pulled away with a faint chuckle. “You really aught to wear things like this more often.” One of the hands that was currently pressing against France’s hips moved to his behind, squeezing it. “So tell me lass, do you—” The blond pirate trailed off from his teasing as a glimmer caught his eye. Fairies? What where they doing here? Clicking his tongue he impatiently shooed the winged beings away.

Always willing to take a complement, Francis smile had widen some, but it twisted into a pout when it became clear that Arthur's attention was drifting elsewhere. Slipping a gloved hand to the back of the pirate’s head, the Frenchman clasped his fingers tightly in the man's short, cropped blond hair, and forced England’s face and attention back to him before once again pressing their lips together. France’s action had caught him off guard, but none the less, he growled in a pleased manner as the man suckled on his tongue and moved his own against his corset wearing rival’s.

“Attention on me, Arthur.” France scolded lightly after he pulled away, not sure as to what had caught the Brit's attention, but not appreciating the man’s mind wondering while they were ‘busy.’

Arthur flashed him a smirk, “Of course pet, but…” The fey lingered, giggling at the display. It made England fell a bit hot around the collar, dare he say… nervous, with his friends so near. “How about we go to another room? Or a table I could bend you over, eh?”

Mood easily shifted, the irritation France had felt just moments earlier had slipped away quickly as he once again was the center of attention, and he traced his manicured nails lightly down the back of the Englishman’s neck as he pulled him into another series of light kisses before answering. 

England groaned at the attention the other gave him. It felt great, but… Those fairies were still buzzing around.

“Don’t be silly, mon cher….” Francis said as pulled away from Arthur’s now smeared pink lips, to move down to his neck. “We have a perfectly nice room right here…. Besides, I do not think that I could walk another step considering the current conduction I’m in.” He grinned against the side of Arthur's neck before nipping it, and pressed his hard-on more firmly against the pirate's, to remind him of said conduction. “Not to mention, there are plenty of things, right here in this room, that you can bend me over.” Francis smiled wider, his nose wrinkling in wicked amusement as he pulled back and stepped farther into the room, taking Arthur’s hand into his own and pulling the younger blond in with him.

Waving his free hand to, once again, try and shooing the little pests away, Arthur allowed the other to lead him farther into the room, stopping him at the bed. “Looks nice enough.” He commented, pushing the man back onto the duvet, and Francis fell onto the bed with a light laugh as looked up at England through made up eyes and long lashes as he teased his hands along his body, his gown spread out elegantly around his frame. “We’ve certainly have settled for worse before.” The long haired blonde reminded as he spread his silk stocking covered legs apart, giving Arthur more access. 

“Mmmm… It’s been too long.” Arthur stated and started to lift the Frenchman’s skit, unable to wait to touch him more.

Not able to see them, the feminine man was not bothered by the fairies that, wondering what England found so interesting under France’s skirt, hovered even closer. Their tinkling laughter reached the Brit's ears, drawing his attention to them, though, and the young nation quickly snatched his hands out from under France’s skirt with an awkward flush. 

Arthur glared at the fairies; it was hard to stay in the mood when they were fluttering around. “Bugger off…” He hissed.

Long, firm legs slid closed some at England’s words and tone, and France pushed himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at him. “Excuse me?” Francis asked in a rather displeased tone, raising one thin eyebrow in question of the comment that MUST have been directed at him, since he was the only other one in the room that the man could be speaking to at the moment…. unless the pirate had had more to drink that he had realized, anyway.

Giving France an impatient look, Arthur huffed, looking flustered. “Not you! It’s the fairies; they won’t leave the room…” Oh Lord, Francis was going to think he was mad. Their guests didn’t seem to concerned with his displease, though, and simply fluttered around them, watching with curious expressions. Arthur waved his hands in the air, trying to bat them away. “Bloody hell.”

Francis gave the English nation a rather unimpressed look in reply to his anwer; his slightly smeared lips turned down into a small frown. He had heard about the 'fairies' from all the Kirkland siblings over the years, and had simply accredited it to the family’s inability to handle their alcohol, but never before had any of their delusions come up at such an inconvenient time.

The French man considered his options, and since up and leaving wasn’t going to get him laid, he decided just to go with the flow. Pushing aside his annoyance, he then leaned forward to grab Arthur by the front of his shirt, once again drawing the pirate’s attention back to himself as he pulled the man towards him. “Well, then let them stay and watch. I’ll promise them a good show. ~” He teased in a sing song voice and gave the other a rather lustful look that was intensified by the use of makeup.

Arthur’s mouth fell open in surprise at the suggestion,and a deep blush reformed on his face as he was kissed again. No way. Letting the Fey watch...That would be far too mortifying! Pulling back he said quickly, “L-look I’ll try to get rid of them Francis just, give me a minute alright?”

When Arthur pulled away again, seemingly to try and talk his 'imaginary friends' into leaving, Francis decided enough was enough, and, using the element of surprise to his advantage, he grabbed the pirate's arm and gave a hefty pull, tugging England to the side, onto the bed, next to him. 

In a blink of an eye, the blonde was then straddling him, his dress flowing out around them. “I said, let them watch.” France stated firmly as his hair fell loose from its fancy style, hanging down and framing his face nicely. While he would humor Arthur’s belief in magical critters to a certain extent, Francis certainly wasn’t going to go as far to let them ruin his sex life.

Without waiting for a reply, Francis then moved his hands to the buttons on the pirate’s shirt, slowly undoing them despite the protest of the man under him. Granted, England could out muscle him and probably push him off easily if he wanted to, but such an acts of force would likely end in a fist fight rather than sex, so he doubted Arthur would take the risk.

"Wha-?!" Arthur blinked up at France as their positions were reversed. "Let them watch?!" The pirate gasped and struggled halfheartedly, a part of him finding this hot while another was nearly dying from embarrassment. "Francis… Wait I…" How was he suppose to protest when he could able to feel the Frenchman’s heat through his clothes, and had no doubt that his rival could feel the growing bulge in his pants.

The scowl slowly left Francis face and was replaced by a brief, confused, expression, followed by a wicked smirk as he rocked his pantie clad ass against Arthur’s growing erection. “Oh my…. it seems that you like the idea of your little friends watching more then you’ll admit.” He teased, noticing the younger man’s physical response to the suggestion. “Does it turn you on to have their little eyes watching as I ravish you?” The blonde purred as he pushed the pirate’s shirt open and lean down to catch a nipple in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Arthur’s fairies friends stared at the scene, pointing, giggling, and confused about why Francis, who wasn’t a baby, was sucking on Arthur’s, who wasn't a woman, nipple. 

Blushing and fidgeting, Arthur’s back arched as Francis paid attention to his chest. It would have been a bit of a turn on… If he hadn’t seen the fairies looking at them and giggling. “Francis just… Ahh…” One of his hands tangled in the man’s hair and the other reached around to run over his behind. “Bloody hell... Talented thing aren’t you?”

Pulling away, Francis smiled at the pink lip stick marks that he had left on Arthur chest before looking up at the pirate. “I have had practiced.” He said with a wink before bending down to give his other nipple the same treatment as the first.

As the Frenchman pinched Arthur’s nipple lightly between his teeth, one of the bolder fairies landed on the Brit's chest and reached out with her two tiny hands and pinched the ignored nipple between her palms to try and see exactly what Francis was trying to get out of them.

"Ah!" Arthur’s back bent sharply as both the creature and Francis touched him. He writhed a little on the bed, glaring down at the fairy. He tried to causally push her away without sending her small body flying, passing the motion off as running his own hand lightly over the ‘unoccupied’ part of his chest. 

So the frog was giving them ideas?! But... he didn’t want to stop… "Dammit…" He hissed through his teeth, another pleased groan leaving him.

"No, no, no.” Francis tsked at Arthur when he reached down to sweep away the fairy, obviously thinking that he was trying to swat him away. Grabbing the younger man's wrist, Francis pushed his hands above his head, and held them down against the bed with a hand of his own as he awkwardly reached down with the other to undo his garter and pull off his stocking.

“Now be a good boy and let my wondrous self put on a marvelous show for your friends, just as promised. ~” With a grin, France then wrapped the silky stocking around England’s wrists, binding them together, and Arthur nearly growled in frustration as his hands were tied. Didn’t he understand?! 

As the French nation was restraining his bed mate with his undergarments, the fairy considered Arthur’s reaction to her little experiment. As she had expected, there had been no milk… but based on how Arthur had responded, as well as Francis amused reaction, she put the information together and figured it out. They were playing a game! 

Since fairies always loved games, she rushed over to explain their actions to all her friends.

For a moment, England's gaze darted away with the fairy that had flown to the others. We’re they leaving? He hoped so… 

That theory was quickly pushed to the side as the fairies continued to giggle, and flew a little closer. Nearly groaning he looked back at Francis, “A good show? … Better make me feel good as well, lass.” He teased, seeking to try and block out the Fey by turning his entire focus to Francis.  
Sitting back up some, Francis gave a look of mock indulgence. “When have I ever left you anything but completely satisfied in bed? Really… you need to learn to have faith in me, Angleterre.” The Frenchman said before pressing a trail of kisses down from Arthur's chest to his navel, leaving his shirt and coat spread open for easy access since he couldn’t take it off without untying the pirate’s hands.

As the Francis dipped his tongue into Arthur's belly button, the fairies gathered around his abandon, perked nipples. Due to their size, it took both of a fairy’s hands to wrap fully around the hard nub, and she licked the top of it, trying to mimic what the French nation was doing, while another, more troublesome fairy, just gave his other nipple a hard slap.

The sensations were strange and a cross between welcome and not so welcomed… 

Arthur groaned, tossing his head a little as he was torn between his lover and the fairies teasing him and tugged at his restraints. “Y-you damn things… Don’t!” He hissed, twisting his torso in an attempt to dislodge the fairies. 

Francis looked up long enough to give the other a look like he was crazy. “N-not you France… “ He amended. “They… They’re… Ahh!” When this was over… the pirate thought to himself, he was going to thrash the lot of them for not listening to him.

After a second, France just shook his head and went back to open mouth kissing Arthur’s belly button as he reached up to undo his belt buckle. 

The more England wiggled and fought, the more amused the Fairies were with their new game. More joined in, and little hands and mouths began pulling, biting, and licking mercilessly at the hard pink numbs to try and get an even better reaction from the larger being.

Arthur gasped and groaned at the treatment, seemingly spurring on both parties that were messing with him. He couldn’t take much more of this and groaned, thankful that Francis was finally starting to pay attention to the spot between his legs that needed it most. The English nation shifted his hips obligingly, pressing up. 

Sliding off the bed so that he could tug Arthur’s trousers off, Francis took a moment to fold the pants as he eyed his bed mate’s already hard member, silently noting that the idea of his fake friends watching him really seemed to be turning the Brit on. “You are very hard, considering that I have hardly even touched you so far. ~” He teased.

The fairies that had continued to pinch and play with Arthur’s nipples happily but some paused as France pulled off England's pants, and they stare at the pirate’s now naked, lower half, before apparently deciding that getting naked was part of the game, so they were then soon all giggling and throwing their clothing everywhere as they hovered in front of England, their curvy little female body's completely uncovered.

Arthur looked down at as the man hovered over aching erection, knowing that he wouldn’t believe the truth, so instead said, “That talented, I suppose…” However, once again he was soon distracted by the fairies who were stripping before him.

He frowned up at them, jerking his head in a final attempt to shoo them away again. How long were they going to continue to play along?

Back between England’s legs, Francis' pink lips were only a breath away from the Brit's leaking member.

With the change of pace, some of the fairies went down lower to see what new thing were happening, while the others remained above Arthur’s chest, a few still playing with his nipples, while the rest of the tiny, winged women started playing with their own, as well as, their companions boobs, attempting to figure out the game.

“Are you sure it’s not the company of your fake fairy friends making you so excited?” The Frenchman taunted playfully, not realizing how right he really was. Taking a moment to lick a drop of cum from the tip, the older nation then wrapped his hand around the other’s cock before taking the head into his mouth, sucking.

The pirate wanted to yell at Francis that their audience was indeed real, and growing more and more frisky by the minute, but the protests died in his throat. There was no way that the Frenchman would believe him… 

It was nearly maddening, watching as the Fey began to pleasure themselves, and to have France’s mouth along his erection.... Moans in response to both parties pleasuring him grew louder as more and more of the delicious sensations racked up his spine. “Oh hell…” He growled out, eyes sliding shut as he lightly bucked his hips into the skilled, soft mouth around him, urging him to take more.

When Arthur started to buck into Francis' mouth, the Frenchman pulled away with a laugh. “Oh, no! You do not get to set the pace…. I gave you your chance, and you kept letting those fairies of yours interrupt, so it’s my turn to take charge.” The blond informed the bond man under him before reaching down to remove his other stocking, and tied it around the Brit’s balls and dick as a make shift cock ring just as one fairies flew close enough to scoop up a drop of precum with her hands and lifted it close to her face to taste it, like the one man had done.

"W-wait Fra—" Arthur groaned as the make shift cock ring was placed on him. "France!" He hissed, writhing a little harder, "This isn’t funny." The pirate groaned, and his blushing got even darker as hew noticed the fairy sampling his precum. 

Dammit, he was not going to live this down with them…

“It’s not meant to be humorous, love… Now be good, lie back, and let big brother take care of you.~” Francis purred, then began to pump Arthur’s cock with his hand. The Fey were careful to avoid his hand, as they gathered around the head of their friend’s swollen dick, giggling as a few reached out to smear the sticky liquid over the sensitive tip, some even leaning forward to lick it.

Since it was getting crowded around his lower half, a few of the winged women went back up to Arthur’s perky nipples to play.

Arthur whined, unable to keep from bucking his hips into that grip, even if he couldn’t get anything out of it at the moment. His fairy friends who were teasing him constantly didn't help. “Oh… God…” Looking over at the older nation, England watched the man's actions with lust filled eyes. 

How long was the other going to keep this up? He was not looking forward to having to beg his ‘big brother’ for release.

Offering his lover a quick smile, France then showed some mercy and ducked down to take England's cock back into his mouth, bobbing his head as he held the Brit's hips down, and sucked the other off until he was a needy mess. 

The fairies, amused by England’s squirming and wiggling, were only more encouraged.

When Franvis thought that Arthur was completely distracted by his oral teasing, he then pulled his mouth off and, using a bit of strength that all nations had to a point, flipped the man onto his stomach in one, quick motion, causing the fairies to scatter.

Distracted he was; the blond pirate’s mind was a haze of need. He hadn't see the movement coming, and let out a slightly startled cry as he was flipped over. Looking back at the man, he frowned and mock grumbled, “I thought I was topping.” Not that he really minded, but it did catch him off guard... Well, at least the fairies couldn’t tease him from this position, he thought to himself. 

Indeed, at the point they floated back a foot or two, eagerly watching to see what their friend, and his strange lover, would do next.

“Hmmm…. no. You blew your chance to top earlier, mon cher.” Francis said in a sing song voice and grabbed the pirate’s hips, urging him onto his knees, ass high in the air. Once he was pleased with the position, the French nation grabbed both ass cheeks with his hands and squeezed. “Spread your legs a bit more for me.” He then told him casually as he moved back and slipped off the bed to go and look for something in the room that could be used as lube.

Not sure what was going on, the Fey stayed back at first, but it wasn’t long before curiosity won, and they flew closer to Arthur's naked backside.

Smirking to himself, he murmured in reply, “Very well.” However, once his lover was far enough away, he took the opportunity to try and reach around and motion for the fairies to head out. “You’ve had your fun.” He hissed at them, “Get going.” But they paid his words no heed and merely giggled.

Never ones to take no for an answer, the fairies rushed back in upon Arthur’s protest. Flying between his legs, one fairy grabbed onto his hard dick, wrapping both her arms and legs around his thick length, and clinging to it as the others laughed.

A strangled gasp left the young nation as he felt a fairy give him a ‘hug’. He groaned as the small, soft body clung to him. It was unfair of them to play with him like this when France was around. Bloody cheats, he thought to himself. Francis’ return prompted him to stop his antics.

While ignoring the fact that it looked like England was talking to his ass, France had managed to retrieved some body oil off of a nearby vanity, and had returned to the bed, where he settled himself behind the other nation and opened the jar to slick his fingers.

Arthur watched in renewed hunger as the older blonde slicked up his fingers. He felt torn between how things with their guest were escalating, and really wanting to fool around with his rival…

Francis pressed his lubed fingers against Arthur’s hole to rub the oil over it, and the fairies were not at all shy, hovering up close and giggling as they watched. 

With a smirk, the Frenchman also watched as his finger disappeared into the warm opening, while the fairy on England’s cock struggled to stay hanging on, despite the Brit’s jerks and movements.

Top or bottom, Francis was well versed with sex and he slowly opened up England’s body, sliding in a second finger with ease. Groaning into the sheets, England shifted his hips trying to get comfortable as he adjusted to the digits pressing into him. He was not a stranger to this position, but it had been a while. Perhaps it was a good thing that Francis was really as lecherous and ‘romantic’ as he often acted; the discomfort he would endure tonight could be minimal... If not for the blasted stocking tied around his cock.

“You’re tight love…. Has it been awhile?” France asked as he finger fucked him. 

The twitch that followed the entry of the third finger caused the fairy on his dick to slip free, and a whole new burst of laughter came forth as they discovered a new game, and soon the whole group of them were trying to cling to Arthur's erection, to see if they could hang on through out his bucking.

"F-fuck…" He growled as the sprites continued to play with him, but Arthur remembered that he had to try and at least appear sane in front if France, so he tried to keep face. "Yes… It has." He agreed, pulling his bound hands between his legs, England then muttered, "Can’t you take this thing off?"

Slipping his fingers free, France gave England an, ‘Are you dumb?’ look. “If I wanted your hands free, mon cher, then I would not have tied them in the first place.” The Frenchman told the pirate as he pulled his own up and out of way so that he could continue. 

As Francis shifted his clothing around, the curious fairies went towards England’s back side, and being the naughty creatures that they were, wasted no time in copying the feminine blonde's earlier actions. Soon Arthur had several small fist and arms penetrating his slick opening.

The rustle of silk against the Englishman's skin was pleasurable, but the little limbs pushing into him… Well, they felt good too, but also awkward. Damn lewd creatures! 

Arthur moaned, hips jerking a little as he fumbled with the knots binding his wrists and erection. He had no luck getting them off, and was forced to lay there in an awkward pleasure as he waited for France to fuck him. “Dammit frog… Hurry.”

“….No.” Francis told him simply, letting his skirt fall back down. “I don’t think I will.” The French country then said, as punishment for trying to control the pace while he was in charge, and instead moved around so that he was kneeling in front of England and lifted his dress again, so that the hard bulge straining against silk panties was in clear view. “Lick. ~” France ordered, jerking his hips forward to press his covered erection against Arthur’s mouth.

Mean while, bored with just fisting Arthur, the fairies were soon gripping the ring of muscle and was pulling Arthur wide open, so that they could see insider of his entrance, and perhaps see what the Frenchman had been trying to find in there.

As his lips were pressed against silk covered heated flesh, Arthur’s yelp at being pulled open was muffled. He wiggled his hips, but was unable to dislodge them. Growling lowly at the Fey, he risked a glanced up at Francis, to see if he had noticed, before complying. Opening his mouth, Arthur let his tongue trace a slow trail up to the lacy hem line of the panties. There was no reason he couldn’t return the favor, after all. 

Flicking his tongue over the length once more, the pirate grasped the top of the panties between his teeth and pulled the down.

Free to do as they please since England was busy, the winged girls continued to happily molest the teenage nation, some reaching inside of his anus deep enough to swat at his prostate, while others clung to, and played with his dick. Unaware of it all, France closed his eyes and waited as Arthur tugged his underwear down with his teeth, allowing his cock to spring out, eager and ready. 

Eyes heavy lidded, Francis looked down through long eyelashes at the man kneeling in front of him, and waited patiently. Why England was moaning and squirming so much over the idea of giving him a blow job, France wasn’t sure, but as long as he did a good job, Francis wasn’t going to complain. 

When Arthur finally felt the tip of a warm tongue teasing him, the Frenchman’s hand clenched the skirt he was holding out of the way, and his breath hitched slightly. A small gasp soon escaped his full, painted lips, and he allowed his eyes to fall shut as he took a moment to enjoy the pleasure, absently reaching out with one hand to sweetly glide his fingers along England’s cheek, before moving it higher and gripping the younger nation’s hair in his fist tightly, so that he could force the pirate down farther.

Trying hard to focus only on France, and not the fairies intent on teasing him, Arthur opened his mouth and let his tongue gently wander over the older man’s length. There was a muffled intake of breath as Francis’ grip moved from lying over his hand, to holding tight in his hair. England groaned lowly as he was pushed down onto his rival’s length, but was quick to control himself. 

Working to relax his throat, Arthur continued to pleasure Francis. His bound hands moved up to pinch at the inside of one of the Frenchman’s now bare thighs, and he moaned as, once again, a little fairy hand hit his prostate.

Still slightly annoyed at England’s earlier distractions, France held his dick down the other man’s throat, having know Arthur well enough to know that he could handle such treatment. The feeling of throat muscles squeezing around his hard cock was amazing, and when the long haired blonde felt a sharp pinch against his bare thigh, he shuddered in pleasure at the slight pain added to the mix, but pulled back to allow the other to take a breath. “So good, love. So very, very good. ~” He praised with a purr.

The fairies continued to chatter and playing, with the occasion scuffle breaking out among them as the fought for a turn with the ‘fun parts,' the fun parts being Arthur’s nipples, penis, and anus, since they made him squirm the most and make funny sounds that they normally didn’t get to hear from him.

Lord when this was all over, Arthur really was going to have to have a stern talk with those fairies… and he hated doing that, since if he got them mad it would rain inside of his house for a week, at the very least.

The island nation sighed and took a full breath before going down on France again. He hated to rush, but he wanted to get France off, so that he could deal with the little teases, who were currently torturing his most sensitive places. Groaning lowly, the Brit rubbed at the spot he had previously pinched before repeating the treatment on the other leg.

Arthur’s issues with the Fey continued to go unnoticed, as Francis was finally getting the attention he wanted. Fighting not to simple fuck the other’s face, the Frenchman instead allowed England to go at his own pace, since the younger man seemed eager enough to please him, anyway. 

Releasing the dress so that he could catch his other hand in England’s hair as well, the thick, expensive material from the skirt blocked fell, blocking Francis view of the pirates, be he could certainly still feel what the other nation was doing. Sliding in deeper, Arthur pinched him again, and the girly man couldn’t help but jerk his hips forward with an appreciative groan.

While France was enjoying getting a blow job, one of the fairies got impatient about waiting for her turn to 'play with' the Brit, and decided to try and force her way through the winged crowd. Flying up high, she then zoomed down at a great speed…. straight towards England’s asshole.

There was a strangled cry as Arthur felt the fairy lodge itself inside of him and he almost bit down on Francis, but managed to hold back just in time. That would be a mood killer... and as strange as it sounded, he did not want this to end, even though the fairies were making his experience humiliating.

Jerking off of the Frenchman, England growled in frustration as he felt the fairy become stuck inside of him. “Shit…. you damn brats!” He snarled, trying to push the Fey out with his inner muscles as he reach down to try and tug her out of his entrance at the same time.

Since the fairy had only planned on just knocking the other’s out of the way, and had not expected to get stuck insider of Arthur, she panicked, rolling around, squirming, and kicking in hopes of escape, and repeatedly banging into England's prostate as she did so.

A scowl returned to Francis’ pretty face as England's attention once more returned to his invisible friends. He really had no idea what Arthur was imagining his pretend play mates to be doing, but he was seriously starting to feel jealous that he could keep losing Arthur’s attention to something that didn’t even exists!

Grabbing Arthur’s hair once more, France then roughly forced the pirate to look back at him and growled, “I will have your attention, or I will leave and find company elsewhere, do you understand?”

There was a brief struggle as Arthur pushed out the fairy while trying to shift out of Francis’ grip,but the Frenchman’s words then sunk in and he stilled. “I understand…” He muttered. It wasn’t often that he felt guilty, but now was one of those times. Huffing, the British pirate lifted his bound hands to bat away Francis’. “Let me get back to work then, eh?”

The tiny winged creatures were finding all of this oh so amusing, but Francis didn't find it nearly as funny as the Fey did, and he tightened his grip of the other’s hair before he sighed and released the man. “Very well… If you think you can keep focus.” The long haired blonde mumbled after a second, then reached out to undo the bonds like Arthur had asked for earlier, since they obviously weren’t helping him to keep his attention anyway.

Flexing his wrists a little once he was release, Arthur was tempted to reach between his legs and untie the stocking there as well, but his erection was not as painful as it was before, so he let it be. Glancing once more at, Francis he leaned over, pushing up the man’s skirt. Fingers wandering over the Frenchman's hips and thighs, the pirate pressed open mouthed kisses along the sides of his length. At last, he took him into his mouth again, humming softly and trying to work the other back to hardness as quickly as he could, to make up for lost time. 

Hopefully the fairies would calm some, or else they were going to absolutely ruin his night.

The last little accident had been enough to keep the fairies for the moment, but they never seemed to learn, so it was doubtful that the peace would last very long.

France closed his eyes again and tried to focus on his warm mouth on his erection, rather then his irritation. Thankfully, the pirate was good enough with his mouth that it wasn’t long before the French nation's hips were thrusting forward softly. “That’s right… Get me nice and hard, love.” He muttered softly.

Arthur smirked to himself and relaxed a little, now that the fey weren’t outright pestering him. He held onto Francis’ hips as he sucked him off, but didn’t stop him from thrusting. Every once and a while, the teen would pull back to simply suck at the tip, or to nip at France's thighs. “Eager yet?” England teased, voice slightly muffled by the man’s skirts.

The Frenchman swallowed, absently thumbing at his own nipple through the material of the dress. “I was eager twenty minutes ago, dear.” He commented, the large use of the English pet names rather then his preferred French one, showing that he hadn’t quite forgiven the other yet.

Pushing his skirt out of the way, he then grabbed the pirate’s shirt and pulled him up to to press their lips together. Slipping his tongue into Arthur's mouth, Francis kissed the other nation deeply, not stopping until they needed to separate to breath. “I want you now… Before you get distracted again.” He said against Arthur’s lips, then dipped his head down to press an open mouth kiss to his neck. “How would you like it, my pet?”

Arthur groaned as the kiss was broken. So what if he wasn’t forgiven yet? If Francis kissed like that when he was pissed, perhaps it would be fun to aggravate more often. Licking his lips clean as the Frenchman sucked on his neck, the blond pirate thought over his option as he ran his fingers through his cross-dressing rival’s longer locks.. 

“I want to ride you, love.” He murmured at last, tilting his head more to the side as France's kisses slowly became a slow, harsh sucking that would leave a large, dark hickey. 

“That sounds just lovely.” France purred in reply and kissed him once more before crawl toward the center of the bed, where there would be more room, swaying his hips seductively as he went before laying down on his back.

With Francis out of the way, the fairies now flocked back to England’s body, previous lesson already forgotten. Soon, several of them were hanging on his erection again, though they at least now seemed a bit wary of his butt, but that was okay... England could manage with them simply messing with his dick.

Smirking to himself, Arthur managed to push his jacket and shirt completely off and edged up the Frenchman’s skirt . “Are you ready?” His hands wandered along Francis’ hips edging underneath to grope him as England positioned himself over the other man.

The Frenchman watched England intently and smiled in reply as he reached down to help pull the frilly, ball gown up to his waist, and out of the way. “I’m always ready, you know that Angleterre.~” He answered lustfully, nudging the man closer with one long , bare leg, except for the black, lacy, garter belt.

England tugged the garter belt away, and dragged his hand along the smooth, freshly shaved leg. “I know.” He chucked softly and lined himself up properly before lowering his body down onto France’s erection. Arthur had to groan at the feeling of his old rival’s heated length entering him, spreading pleasure through his body. “Bloody hell, I’ve missed this…” He breathed, keeping his eyes on Francis’ face so that it was easier to ignore the fairies.

Francis moaned something that may have been an agreement as he felt the head of his erection slowly slip into Arthur’s tight hole, and his eyes fell shut as his head tilted back in pleasure. Absently, he reached up to grip the Brit's hips firmly in his hands.

Meanly, Flying Mint Bunny had decided to enter the room, curious about what the fairies were making such a fuss over. Luckily, he didn’t seem to have any interest in joining in, but he did land on the head board, right in front of England’s face, and just sat there, staring at him much like a pet cat would.

"Holy?!?!?!" There was a rather feminine yelp from England as he nearly jerked himself off of Francis in surprise as Flying Mint Bunny suddenly landed in front of him. For a moment Arthur went completely still as he stared at the furry creature. "M-mint Bunny?" He continued to stare at the head board, feeling a dark blush creep over his cheeks. This was almost too much! "Dammit." England hissed, glaring at the creature, hoping that it would leave.

Mint Bunny did not move. He just continued to stare unblinkingly at the sight before him.

The pirates reaction had startled Francis enough that his eyes had shot open in confusion, not knowing what Arthur meant by, ‘Mint Bunny,’ at first, then he recalled that it was the name of one of the Brit's pretend friends, and he scowled as he was once again ignore in favor of Arthur’s imagination! 

“That’s it! Get off of me this very moment!” Francis growled, thrusting his hips up hard as he attempted to buck Arthur off of him, slamming hard into the younger nation as a result  
.  
England’s expression went from startled, to upset, to nearly pleasured again, as Francis’ motion brought their bodies together roughly. “N-ngh!” He cried out, and leaning down, he held onto the Frenchman’s shoulders, lowering his gaze so that he would not have to look at Mint Bunny. “No! Dammit Francis, don’t you dare!” The pirate glared at him. “It’s not my fault!”

Despite the pleasure, his pride was now hurt, and Francis sneer as he panted, continued to try and buck Arthur off. “No? Then who is at fault? Your little friends?” He laughed bitterly. “Well… Perhaps you should just have sex with them instead!”

Arthur couldn't help but groan as Francis continued to buck up into him. Hissing as pleasure continued to wrack through his body, England didn’t relinquish his grip on the other man. “Dammit… Don’t get your panties in a bunch! I’m sorry!” His words were broken by shallow pants. “Bare with me for now? I’ll talk to the bloody pricks l-later…” The island nation absolutely hated begging, but he was rather desperate. His body was throbbing with need and he didn’t want to stop.

Glowering up at the other, Francis’ was short of breath as well when he eventually stopped struggling, but he was still hard despite his desire to kick Arthur off of him out of spite. Still, it was hard to fight his more primal desires while buried balls deep inside of the man above him.

After a short internal debate, France snorted. “Fine. Do as you wish, but do not expect me to do you any favors.” He huffed, setting his made up face into a cute pout and crossing his arms across his chest in a way that made it clear that he wasn’t planning on even touching the pirate. “You can use your own hands to get yourself off... Or get your friends to do it since you always seem so focused on them.” Francis finished, completely unaware that Mint Bunny had jumped down, and was now sitting on the pillow right next to their heads as he continued to stare at them.

'Damn prima donna…' Arthur thought to himself, closing his eyes in order to not have to see the pale green bunny, and rocked his hips. Any other time the look on Francis face would have been amusing, but not when it led to his inability to get off. “Dammit frog…”

Stubbornly, Francis attempted to keep his arms crossed while looking put out, despite the fact that he had a man bouncing on his dick in a most pleasant fashion. 

Seeing Arthur close his eyes, the Frenchman’s displeasure at the other grew. How dare Arthur close his eyes and think of… Well, whatever it was that Arthur would probably think of, (most likely unicorns or something,) and the thought sent another spike of jealous rage through him.

Breaking his vow not to touch the other, France grabbed England's thigh with on hand, thrusting up into him as he reached up to pinched a nipple sharply with the other. “Look at me.” He ordered, and Arthur yelped, flinching as the man pinched him. 

Hissing, the Englishman opened his eyes to glared down at the Frenchman. Why was he so hard to please? “F-fine…” The island nation said and attempted to keep his gaze in a tunnel vision focus, only wanting to have the drag wearing man in his line of sight. 

At least the man was touching him now.

England’s hand moved to lay over the one on his chest, pushing the other's hand along his skin. “Keep touching me.”

“Then keep looking at me... and not your unicorns, or platypuses, or whatever it is that you keep finding oh so much more interesting then me!” France snapped and dragged his pink painted nails down Arthur’s chest, but he heeded to England's request to touch him, and finally wrapped his hand around the other nations dick, causing the fairies to flee when he did so, then rolled his hips up to meet England’s pace.

Even though his erection was still bound by his stocking, Arthur panted and gasped as Francis finally started to touch him, keeping his gaze on the Frenchman the whole time. “It’s not my fault, and I am interested in you, you bloody fool! They're just annoying.” He shook his head, then lean down to try and kiss the older country, but France turned his head to the side. 

Arthur’s answer had not being good enough to earn him a kiss, but as he felt himself getting closer to climax, Francis was merciful enough to untie the silk stocking from around the base of the Brit's bobbing dick.

The pirate moaned in relief as he felt the other finally remove the damn home made cock ring. “F-fuck…” He rolled his hips down harder as Francis began to jerk the Englishman off as he stared stubbornly to the side. “Francis… don’t be prissy…” Arthur murmured, then moved in closer for another attempt at a kiss.

Stomach muscles tense and his breathing heavily, the blonde nation pressed his lips together in denial for a moment longer before finally sighing in defeat and allowing England to catch his lips with his own.

Pride and a bit of happiness bubbled up inside of Arthur as Francis finally gave in, and England wasted no time pressing his tongue into the other man’s mouth. He eagerly toyed their tongues as he felt the pleasure inside of him start to peak, and France, so close to climax himself, soon found it hard to focus on being mad at the other, and instead concentrated on the kiss, moaning softly and letting out a slight whine when Arthur pulled away with a loud groan, orgasming in Francis’ hand.

Feeling his lover’s warm seed spill over his finger, the long haired blonde pumped him a few more times before releasing his dripping member and wrapping his clean arm around Arthur’s neck, pulling him down into another open mouth kiss as Francis continued to buck up into him, trying to finish.  
It took only a few more good thrusts, but soon Francis was clinging to the pirate and gasping into his mouth as he shuddered and shot his own release inside of him.

Arthur then pulled back from the kiss with a bit of a smirk, his green eyes flashing in the half light. Slowly, he slid himself up off of the older nation. “Mmm… Was that so hard?” He teased, and Francis sighed. At the moment he felt too good to really be mad at Arthur, but the pout still remained on his face as he swatted halfheartedly at the island nation for his teasing. 

“….You did not compliment my dress, which is probably sticky with sweat and cum now….” France muttered, eyes shifting to the side as the real reason for all his bitching and complaining came out. “Or my hair, which was perfect before you got your brutish hands on it... and my makeup’s probably ruined as well….” He trailed off, and England laughed softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. 

“You look brilliant, love. I’ve never seen you look better than in this dress, stained or otherwise.” Arthur commented, shifting to the side and laying down next to Francis, grinning and feeling rather satisfied. “And your face looks fine, even if it is a little smudged.”

Listening to Arthur’s words, the soft frown remained on Francis’ face as he waited for the Brit to shift down beside him, then he rolled over to scooted closer and snuggle against England. “…. You do not get any bonus points for flattery after I have to tell you to do so.” He huffed, though based on his tone, the late complements were obviously enough to at least ease his anger.

Meanwhile, with the excitement gone, the fairies quickly lost interest…. but Mint Bunny remained, still staring creepily at Arthur from only a few inches away.

Sparing a quick glance at the magical rabbit, Arthur reached around Francis and pulled him into a hug… and shoved Mint Bunny over the edge of the bed at the same time. 

Finally, they were alone, (at least mostly,) and England kissed France again. “But I still flattered you.” He said.

“As you very well should.” Francis countered as they curled up closer, happy to finally be able to enjoy Arthur’s full attention.


	2. Summer Time Fun (Cuba/Canada)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada intends to enjoy his vacation with Cuba, and it's off to a great start!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors: BrattyAmericat
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering

The feeling of a strong, rough hand wrapped around his morning wood, softly stroking the sensitive flesh towards full arousal, was pleasant, but not quite enough to wake the Canadian nation from the comfortable, early morning haze his mind was in.... but the thick finger that pressed at his anus was.

“Eh?!” Matthew awoke, startled by the intimate touch, and reflexively jerked his hips forward, away from the probing digit, as he tried to blinked his tired eyes into focus. The hand that had been teasing him with gentle jerks just moments before, then released his length to slid up and press against his soft stomach, pulling him back against the pudgy body behind him once more.

A deep chuckle at his confusion soon followed, and Mathew relaxed at the warm sound, finally awake enough to recall that he was on vacation, down at Cuba's place. “Hmm... Good morning, Carlos.” He hummed lightly, snuggling back against the man's soft body, and the previous petting resumed.

“Morning, papi.” Cuba returned with a hearty grin, his fingers tracing light circles over his guest's slightly chubby belly. “I thought that this might be a better way to wake up on the first morning of your vacation, then to an alarm clock, yeah?” He asked, and Canada grinned in return.

“Yeah... You thought right.” He agreed happily, eyes sliding shut, then a small gasp escaped him as Carlos' firm grip return to his shaft, causing the still semi-hard organ to spring fully back to life, and this time, when Matt felt a hand sliding between his cheeks, instead of pulling away, the blond bent his one knee, spreading his legs some to give the Cuban more access. 

Carlos' grin widen at the indirect permission he had been given, but didn't say anything more for the time being, already too busy with placing open mouth kisses over the nape of the Canadian's neck.

Finding the right pace and pressure to squeeze and slide his hand in a way that would make Matthew mew and squirm against him, Carlos rubbed the calloused pads of his other fingers over the tiny, puckered entrance teasingly, and took a moment to notice and admire the contrast of their skin while they were pressed so close together. Unintentional, he pressed his hips forward, grinding his own erection against Matt's bare thigh, and earning him another cute, intake of breath from the other. 

Canada had no idea what a sexy, little minx he really was. Completely unlike his brother, but Cuba quickly pushed that thought away, not wanting to think of America at a time like this. “You want me bad, huh, mi vida? He asked and nipped at a red patch of easily markable skin, and Matt groaned, pushing his ass back against the broad man's fingers.

Cuba laughed and pressed more firmly against his twitching hole, but he did not give the other what he wanted. Yet. “I didn't hear you.” The mocha skinned man teased, and Matthew let out another groan, this time out of frustration. 

“Oui!” Canada gasped loudly. “Yes, yes I want you!” He finished with flushed red cheek, then added politely, “Please.”

“Well, how can I say 'no' to that?” Carlos replied, voice a bit rough with his own arousal by this point, and pushed two of his fingers inside of the other at the same time, finding only a little resistance after their previous night's activities. Matt moaned, his body tensing at the sudden invasion before relaxing and simply accepting the intrusion.

The Cuban's breath caught, and he felt himself grow harder at the feeling of muscles squeezing around his fingers, and the warmth of Matthew's insides, still slick with lube and cum. “You feel nice... warm and slippy.” He commented against Matt's neck, and Canada let out a small, needy sound in response. 

Wanting to touch the island nation, but not having too many options since he was on his side with one arm trapped under his own body, the blond reach back to rub a hand over Cuba's side, and gave a 'love handle' an affectionate squeeze as the other man pushed his fingers in deeper, working the northerner open enough to accept something much larger.

Scissoring his digits and forcing the tight ring of muscle to stretch to accommodate, the sounds that Matthew was making finally became too much to bare, and the bulky man released his hold on the other's leaking dick at the same time that he slipped his fingers free. 

Matthew groaned in disappointment at the sudden lack of touch. “Carlos...” He began, trying to turn his head enough to look back at the other, but was interrupted with a hushing sound as Cuba pushed him forward, onto his belly. 

Catching on to what the Cuban wanted, Canada wasted no time pushing himself up onto his knees. Keeping his chest pressed to the mattress, Matt then spread his legs whorishly wide, more then willing to welcome his host back into his body for the third time since he had started his vacation, yesterday.

Not wanting to turn down such a gracious welcoming, Cuba quickly settled behind him, between Canada's spread legs, and helped himself to two handfuls of soft, round buttocks. “Your skin's so pale and smooth, almost like an ice sculpture.” Carlos told Matthew as he took in the curves of his spine, and taunt muscles from his new position, and the northern nation blinked.

“Thanks?” Matt said softly, between broke breaths, not used to compliments like that, but not wanting to be rude and refuse them, but that uncertainty was soon forgotten as he felt the firm, round head of the Cuban's uncut shaft being dragged between his butt checks, and settling against the small indent that he was soon to claim.

“Relax.” Carlos breathed, feeling Matthew tense some under his hands, then slowly began to ease in.

Matt took a breath, trying to do as suggestion as he felt the firm pressure building against his anus, then let out a sharp yip, clenching the sheet under him tightly, as the tip finally breached the ring of muscles. Strong hands moved to hold his hips firmly in place, preventing him from jerking away from the invading member, and Canada swallowed before taking another gulp of air.

Cuba wasn't long, Canada's dick actually being a good four centimeters longer, but he was THICK, and the Canadian could feel ever single millimeter of his hard erection as it was slowly forced inside of him, giving his body no choice but to adjust to his size.

It burned, with only the left over lube and semen already in his body to ease the entrance, but Matthew's dick ached, hanging hard and neglected between his legs as he was forced to remain still and just take it, and the teenager was trembling slightly by the time Carlos finally managed to push in all of the way, his ball sack gently brushing against his own.

Rubbing his thumbs comfortingly over the slight jolt of hips bones, Carlos then slipped one hand under Matt's body and grinning at what he found. “Ah, you like taking my big, fat, cock, don't you, papi?” He asked, teasing the dripping tip of the Canadian's cock before giving the hard organ a good squeeze and releasing it once more.

Canada didn't reply verbally to the comment, but the shudder of his body and the way his blush traveled all the way to his ears and down the back of his neck was answer enough... but Cuba still wanted to hear it said aloud.

“Tell me how much you want it, and I'll fuck you real good.” Carlos purred, tone rough with lust as he rolled his hips, and Matt moaned, both turned on and embarrassed by the dirty talk.

“Please... Pease fuck me with your thick dick!” He forced out, wanting to get past the teasing, and the dark haired man rewarded him. Sliding out until just the tip remained in, Carlos them slammed back in, causing Matthew to cry out.

It hurt so bad, but at the same time, it just felt so damn good! Pushing back to meet Cuba's thrusts, a quick, fast, hard pace was soon set, and the pain slowly faded away to nothing more then an after thought as his body adjusted to the thick rod inside of it, and adrenaline slowly filled his veins.

The Cuban's hard thrusts went just deep enough to brush over the teenage country's prostate, and combined with the sharp spanks Carlos occasion delivered to his back side, it was enough that Matthew thought that he might come just from anal penetration alone, but Carlos was approaching his own climax fast, and not wanting to leave the other unsatisfied if he finished first, grabbed the Canadian’s erection again.

Slick with precum, Cuba slide his hand in time with the fast pace of their rutting, and the double stimulation was enough to build up a tiny whine in the back of the blond's throat. “Oh maple!” He gasped loudly in a half groan as his seed shot out, splattering the blankets below him. 

Matthew's orgasm was enough to send Carlos over the edge as well, and with his fingers clenching the Canadian's hips hard enough to bruise, he slammed in once more into the now limp body, wanting to be as deeply inside of the other as possible as he filled him with his essence, letting out a low rumble from his chest as he did.

Both tired and out of breath, they remained joined together for a while longer as they panted, until Carlos' erection died down enough for it to slip free of Matt's warm body on it's own, and both let men let out matching sighs at the feel of it. 

With his body now free of the other's, Carlos could easily gaze upon Matthew' once tight, puckered, little hole, now gaping and dripping with his cum, and practically twitching with the need to be filled.... The Cuban was unable to resist. Without warning, he then pushed in all four of the fingers of right hand and hooked them down, searching for the Canadian's sweet spot.

“Carlos!” Matthew squeaked, voice an octave higher then normal as his well abused, sore, and overly sensitive ass was played with in such a way, and the man in question chuckled, but showed mercy and pulled his hand free a second later, much to Matt's relief. 

Moving to lie next to his guest, Cuba settled on his side and propped his chin up on his hand. “So, now that we're awake, how about we take a quick shower, I lather you up with sun block, and we head out to the beach?” He asked, and Matt turned his head to look at tan man beside him, considering his words. 

While Canada didn't overly enjoy spending too much time on the beach, considering how easily he tended to burn, the shower and lathering him up parts sounded nice, and he already felt his teenage cock twitch in agreement. “Okay.” Matthew then agreed with a smile, planning on fully enjoying his vacation while he was there.


	3. Bronco Busting (America/England)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England wants to excite his lover with a little 'cowboy' cosplay, but America ends up teaching the Brit how a REAL cowboy 'breaks a bronco' instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors: BrattyAmericat, Doodlyood
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pony Play, Rough Sex, Cosplay, Dogging

This trip reminded Arthur of every single reason why he had hated the American frontier. It was hot, muggy, sweaty, and filled with ass backwards yokels that thought that tea came with ice and enough sugar to make the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man fall into a diabetic coma. 

He. Was. Miserable. 

Why had he allowed America to talk him into coming here? The only thing that had made up for it so far was that Alfred would occasionally slip into a southern accent, but that was torture in and of itself, because he couldn't do anything, because they were in 'public.' 

Well, if Al would stop talking in that damn accent, quit wriggling his bottom like an excited puppy, and stop being so damn scrumptious in general, then England wouldn't be having a problem keeping his hands to himself, now would he?!

He had quickly decided that something had to be done. 

So, England thought about what could he do to improve his mood, release some sexual frustration, and perhaps let America have fun as well. After all, it was both of their vacations. 

The idea had come to Arthur as he had stared into the closet that morning. He had forgotten about America's cowboy hat until then. If he used that, and bought just a few more items... Yes, perhaps that might work. 

It didn't take long for England to throw something together, and soon he was plotting just how in the world he was going to get Alfred in the mood, since the younger nation had decided that this was a good time to be prudish, when the obvious occurred to him.

Alcohol.

A devious smile washed over England's face before he had set out on his date with the American later that night, and while together, he had casually supplied the young man with more and more alcohol, while carefully keeping his own consumption down. 

It was rather hilarious how easy it was for him to trick America into getting drunk without him. Of course, Arthur felt a bit guilty about it... But not enough to keep him from dumping Alfred off at an abandoned barn near their hotel, so that he could he could go and get changed while the American was laying, pleasantly buzzed, in a haystack with nothing but a bottle of whiskey to keep him company.

As England walked back to the barn a short time later, spurs clinking wonderfully on the boots that he had chosen to wear, and with a smile painted his face, the Brit shivered in anticipation. "Why, fancy runnin' into you here, America." The island nation purred in a slightly cockney accent as he stepped into the barn and slid the door shut behind him, the rusty hinges screeching in protest of their movement.

America's drinking came to a pause at the sound, and though it couldn't be seen under the brow of the hat he wore, Alfred drew his eyebrows together in confusion at the odd sound of Arthur's familiar British voice mixed with an American, southern accent. 

It was kinda funny really.... And it was with that thought in mind that Al reached up to push the brim off his hat away from his face in preparation to tease the other man, but stopped himself as England approached, stepping out of the shadows and into the faint light. “... I reckon.” America said in responds instead, as he sat up some and took a moment to look over Arthur's outfit. 

The lights in the old barn flickered slightly, but kept up a soft, incandescent glow, illuminating the surroundings and glinting off of America's favorite cowboy hat, which England had dawned for this special occasion.

With a long trench coat, boots, and a good, old, sun worn, 'ten-gallon' hat perched on his head, combined with his thick eyebrows and sharp grin, England actually managed the 'cowboy' look quite well... for such a small guy that liked to play the part of a gentleman, anyway. 

Wobbly adjusting his position some more in the hay, Alfred straightened his glasses to try and focus his hazy vision on the other better as his drunken mind slowly pieced together what was happening. 

Had England left him here just to get changed into that? Really? Not that the cowboy look didn't fit the guy surprisingly well, but unless he wanted to go horse back riding or something, (they were in a barn, so maybe that was it,) America didn't see the point in getting changed so late in the day...

As Alfred pondered his reasoning, the Englishman slowly began to unbuttoned the long, leather trench coat that he had put on to cover himself on his walk back over to the barn in, and when it was fully undone, he slipped it off sensually and tossed it over a nearby saw horse, finally revealing the real outfit that was hidden beneath, and drunk or not, America suddenly knew that it wasn't horse back riding that England had in mind.

The island nation wore a solitary vest over his bare chest, with a golden cross about his neck, and a pair of ass-less chaps that accentuated his amazing legs and pert arse. The older country also had a gun belt hanging loosely around his waist, although 'lube' had been his weapon of choice. "'ow do I look, partner?" He purred, turning around pointedly for the American's viewing pleasure.

While watching Arthur spin and strike a pose, the teenager fisted his hands. Thanks to the help of alcohol, Alfred's morals, which were screaming about how inappropriate all of this was, were slowly being push aside as a rather primal wave of lust washed through him at the sight of pale flesh and leather, and England was incredibly happy with himself for making sure that America was plied with a sufficient amount of alcohol before attempting this maneuver. 

Staring dumbly at the sight before him in shock, Alfred's mind stuttered as he tried to figure out what to say. “You, you look, um... You don't have any pants on.” He finally answered, always good at pointing out the obvious.

England quirked an eyebrow and jutted out a hip as if to say, 'Are you kidding me?,' to America's obvious and, almost impertinent, statement, and the fact that he wasn't wearing any pants was emphasized as his private bits bounced with the movement, drawing Alfred's attention directly to them before the younger nation quickly forced his blue eyes back up to the other man's face and swallowed down a lump in his throat. 

Somehow, Arthur managed to keep from being too sarcastic when he responded, "So I'm not." An evil grin then washed over his face as he leaned forward and reached out to trace his finger along the brim of Alfred's hat. "But I did recall that you can't go riding without a good pair of chaps.

“... Mighty bad idea to ride a horse w'out a good pair of jeans on as well, ya know?” America continued to play dumb while he brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips and took another large gulp, which was needed to help chase away any remaining nagging doubts, and licked his lips clean before suddenly offering a wide, lopsided, grin. “... But I don' t think you're talkin' 'bout a late night ride through the trails, huh?” He relented, trying to ignore that they were in a 'somewhat' public location.

With a naughty cockney purr, Arthur sauntered over to straddle the drunken American in the bed of hay. "You would be right in that regard, Alfred." The Brit answered, and leaned forward to teasingly take the teen's bottom lip between his teeth before gently sucking away any hurt he might have caused along with the faint flavor of whiskey. 

Alfred had cracked his mouth open when Arthur had leaned towards him, prepared for a kiss, but ending up gasping and jerking slightly instead, due to the harsh nip to his lower lip. A soft moan then escaped his mouth at the sweet suction that followed, and Al's pink tongue darted out just in time to brush against his lover's lips briefly before he pulled a way.

Whining slightly at the lack of any real kissing, the minor complaint cut off as England then trailed a hot line of kisses along the younger nation's jawline line, down his throat to find that sensitive spot at the junction of his shoulder, and sucked hard. 

Closing his eyes with a shuddered sigh, the American tilted his head back, encouraging the action, especially since the alcohol made Arthur's wet mouth feel even hotter then normal against his overly sensitive skin.

Arthur took a moment to lick the spot that he had just marked, and hummed against it before looking up coyly at his young lover. "So what do you say, love?"

The mostly empty bottle was then released and left to roll away, freeing Alfred's hands for more important things, such as running along leather covered thighs and teasing bare flesh with calloused finger tips. Eventually his grip fell upon Arthur's hips, holding him in place as the younger man thrust his cloth covered groin up against him. 

“'Wha'do I say?'” Al repeated Arthur's question (sloppily) with a raised eyebrow, then grinned at him. “'Giddy up', I suppose.” He then answered, reached up to cup the back of Arthur's head and forced him into a real kiss.

England wanted to do more then just kiss, however, he decided to just roll with it, since it seemed like he was going to get his way and have kinky barn sex somewhere in the near future. The very thought made his already burgeoning hard on spring forward even more.... Which was just fine since he didn't have anything restricting it, unlike his young love, and that was something that he planned on taking full advantage of. 

A little bit of torture went a long away, after all.

Tilting his head slightly, England deepened the kiss in a way that still allowed America control, even if it was sloppy due to the younger nation's inebriation. This left the Englishman's hands free to wander. Talented fingers soon ran up and down America's side before one hand made its way to the crotch of the teen's pants and palmed him, knowing full well that any growth in that region could cause some painful restriction thanks to his tight jeans. A fast way to get his pants off, if he was lucky. 

Arthur then moaned into America's mouth tantalizingly as the youth slid his hands down to cup the Brit's firm rear end with a quick squeeze, and England pulled back ever so slightly, to say in a voice deeply laced with lust, "I want you..."

“Oh fuck yes.” Alfred agreed immediately, thrusting needfully against the offered hand before releasing Arthur so that he could quickly reach down to begin working on unfastening his belt.

"Here," England purred, pulling away from America and moving sensually down between his legs, "Let me help..." He offered. After all, it wasn't easy fumbling with your fly while intoxicated and turned on, and Arthur didn't want to wait. 

Alfred had no complaints about the extra help. His body was on fire and his pants were uncomfortably tight, so getting them off quicker was all good in his book. 

Soon the clasp and other works were unfastened and Arthur motioned for Alfred to lift up his hips so that he could tug off his pants and boxers in one slick, well practiced maneuver. It took only a few extra seconds and additional tugs to remove Al's boots, and get them completely off and cast aside so that the American was naked from the waist down.

A grateful breath escaped Alfred and he closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall back onto the hay in relief when his straining erection was finally freed, already hard and dripping in drunk, youthful, excitement.

Licking his lips at the sight, England hummed again and took out the lubricant that he had brought with him.

Looking thoughtful for a moment, he then squirted some into his palm, closed the bottle, and set it aside so that he could reach forward with his clean hand and take America's prick in a firm grasp.

Leaning over him, Arthur gave him a devious smile, then teasing flick his tongue over the tip of Alfred's erection before sucking it into his mouth, while using his other hand to reach down between his own legs to begin preparing himself. 

England found that he rather liked sucking off his boyfriend while fingering himself at the same time.

“Oh, fuck, Arthur, babe....” The teen groan contently, vocab apparently more limited now then normal, and clenched his hands in the hay at his sides as he fought to force open his eyes so that he could watch the exotic show before him.

Letting out a shuddered breath as England happily show off his talented tongue, America reached out a wobbling hand to trace his fingers down along the edge of Arthur's ear, jaw, then back up to grab a handful of hair from under the cowboy hat, being careful not to knock item off because Al wasn't about to pass up the novelty of the normally prissy, pissy Brit wearing clothing (a few pieces, anyway) from one of his favorite eras. 

Arthur smirked around his mouthful of America's prick, self-satisfied with the way he was making Alfred twist and moan beneath him. He continued to suck him off, taking him deep into his mouth easily after years of practice, and used his free hand to play with the teen's balls. 

Swinging an arm over his face, Alfred muttered out another 'fuck' as his hips rocked up lightly to meet the eager mouth around his cock. “T, too good...” Alfred all but whimpered as his hands clenched and unclenched in the Brit's hair. “I'm gonna, uh, gonna cum, if you, you....” The young nation swallowed and took a quick breath. “... If you, if you don't stop....” He warn, though the tightening of his fingers and the movements of his hips clearly said he'd be perfectly fine with the other continuing if he wanted. 

When he got the warning, rather than stopping, Arthur kept going, planning on milking the young man for all that he was worth. After all, he knew that America was young and virile and could easily be teased into round two, and it was with that in mind that he happily swallowed down the load that soon followed with a contented hum while the teen eagerly thrust into his mouth once it became clear that the other had no complaints about him doing so.

America felt every muscles in his body tense up, then relax as the wave of pleasure ripped through him, and losing what ever little sense he had left, the teen then slumped back in the hay, his grip in Arthur's hair loosening and falling down next to his side as he laid there, panting contently. 

“Fuck... Arthur... that was, just....” Sliding his arm off his face to look at his boyfriend, America shook his head slightly as he tried to think of a word to describe exactly how amazing that had been, but failing, ended up just offering a large, stupid grin instead. 

Pulling back a little, Arthur ran his fingers along his lips to catch any cum that had escaped him and licked his finger clean in a remorselessly wanton manner. The Brit then smirked at the young country beneath him before beginning to kiss him languidly for several moments, still preparing himself the whole time.

Absently, he reached down to slowly stroke Alfred back into a hardened state.

They made out for a while longer, and once England was sure that Alfred was once again hard enough, the English nation carefully positioned himself over his boyfriend's shaft. Without further ado, he quickly lowered himself down with an almost whorish moan. "Fuck..." Oh, but it had been well worth the wait.  
It was with great reluctance that America had allowed England to pull away from the kiss, but the knowledge that Arthur was about to do what he did best, (a lot of people thought England’s best skills were Naval related but, no, it was definitely this,) Alfred didn't put up to much of a fuss about it and lazily licked his own lips clean, leaving the faint taste of semen in his mouth, and squirmed as England positioned himself, his body still sensitive after such a great organism.

When the Englishman finally sunk down onto his renewed erection, Alfred let out a moan that mirrored his lover's as he bucked up into him, and reached up to cup Arthur's face, pulling him back down for another harsh kiss.

Arthur welcomed Alfred's kissing, needing a moment to gather his wits about him so he didn't cum on the spot, anyway... He was rather worked up, after all. He then pulled back for a quick breath, his lips swollen from the shameless snogging. However, after a few moments of languid kissing, England had finally grown impatient, and lifted himself up before pressing back down once more. He moaned into America's mouth at the sensation.

England then threw his head back as he began to really ride Alfred. He lifted up and came back down, grinding his hips and delighting in the exquisite sensations his motions caused. Reaching down, Arthur had to squeeze the base of his own prick to stave off his own orgasm a little while longer, hoping to bring Alfred back in enough time to cum a second time, perhaps in tandem with him. 

Unfortunately, after several more thrusts, England couldn't take it any more. As he came down and ground his hips again, he came with a low moan, clenching around Alfred's member, his head still thrown back in wanton lust.

America's hands had settled on the older man's narrow hips as he rode him hard, and he rubbed his palms over leather clad thighs and a firm, bare ass as he watched England tense in his lap, then cum without him even having to touch him. 

The teen's fingers tightened on Arthur's hips hard enough to bruise as he felt him clench wonderfully around his hard cock, but since it was his second round, it just hadn't enough to finish him off...

Bucking up into the other a few times as he rode out his climax, Al gave Arthur a few seconds to catch his breath and enjoy his release before grabbing him around his waist and rolling over without pulling out, so that he was now on top.

Forcing Arthur's mouth open again with his lips to resume kissing, he slowly slid his still hard length out nearly all the way, then pushed roughly back into Arthur's body. “...so fuckin' hot.” Al mumbled against his lover's lips as they kissed. “So, so, hot. So sexy... That look's so good on ya, you're so sexy, so good, fuck... love the outfit, so hot...” He complemented in broken bits as he slowly continued to fuck England as he forced more kisses on the smaller man.

Letting out an additional little moan, the blond Brit yelped in slight surprise when Alfred suddenly had him on his back in the hay. He took note that the hay was itchy, but could not care less. Instead he just whimpered and moaned, kissing his boyfriend back since it kept him from wriggling about too much, something he did not need at the minute, due to the over firing of his nerve endings.

“So perfect.... Though the chaps were kinda much.” America chuckled, before purring, “...but you pull it off well...” Pausing his thrusts, he grin wickedly down at his lover. “But you forgot one thing....” The teen trailed off and reached above them to grab something from the wall. “What type of cowboy... doesn't use rope?”

When the rope was mentioned, all England could do was quirk a questioning eyebrow up at the younger nation. "... Oh?" He managed to breathe out, his prick already springing back to life. "... and what are you going to do with that?" Arthur then asked in a tone that said, 'I fucking dare you,' knowing that it would be the most likely way to get a rise out of the American.

Alfred responded to the challenge with another grin, and leaned down to breath hotly against England's ear. “'Gonna show ya what a real cowboy can do.” He whispered and slid out of his lover's hot body to kneel between his legs. 

Even if he was still somewhat drunk, it took very little effort for the young nation to flip the Englishman over onto his stomach, and he quickly snag one slim wrist, twisted it behind Arthur's back, and looped the scratchy rope around it before grabbing his other hand and repeating the action, binding them firmly together. Any signs of his awkward morality had clearly been pushed aside thanks to the freeing properties of alcohol.

Arthur let out a less than dignified grunt and a slight, 'not-squeal' as he was, rather unceremoniously , flipped over. He looked coyly over his shoulder and back at his boyfriend as Alfred began to tie him up. "... So now that you have me where ya want me," He purred, wriggling his rear-end teasingly, "What are you going to do?" England then made a grand show of struggling against the ropes, then pouted when he actually found that they held really well, and that he'd have to snap them if he really wanted to get free. Of course, that would defeat the purpose of being tied up, so he wasn't too keen on that idea.

Smiling at his accent, Alfred finished tying Arthur's hand with minor issues despite his playful struggling... After all, Al had years of practice with hog tying calves out west, so this was nothing. “I done told you already...” He started as he made sure the knots were snug, and his grinned switched to a slow, wide, predatory smile as he got up and walked over to several other nearby items, stopping to traced his fingers over a soft, leather bridal.

Meeting Arthur's emerald gaze, Al knocked the hat off of the Brit's head before adjusting his glasses, which reflected the lantern light and hid his eyes from view.

“I'm gonna show ya how a REAL cowboy rides.” Alfred told him and lifted his hand to hook a finger in the collar of his red, plaid shirt, and undid a button to show off a little more of his strong chest before taking the bridle and walking over to the tied up man. Kneeling down, the teen grab a fist full of hair and lifted his head to claim Arthur’s mouth again, any resistance met with the sharp nips.

It was all fine and dandy to England, the rough kissing and the slight man handling. He could deal with all of that. In fact, it was all incredibly hot, and his own prick was responding for round two as well. Of course, when Alfred took down the bridle and said something about how real cowboy's rode, even the kinky Englishman got a bit nervous. Although, he was momentarily too distracted with the extremely dominant kiss from Alfred to think much about it.

Not stopping the full out invasion of England's mouth until the man was forced to gasp for breath, America then used the distraction of needing to breath to bring his other hand forward, the one holding the bridal, and force the metal bite between the tied up man's lips. “No bitchin'.” He warned before England had the chance to complain, then added, “If your cookin' hasn't killed ya yet, then a bit of horse spit won't either.” Alfred told the smaller man as he tightened and secured the leather straps while chuckling again, having to force them to awkwardly fit a human's head by tying a few extra knots into the leather.

Arthur immediately protested to having a horse bridle shoved into his mouth. "Alf..." Was he managed, snarling a bit around the metal. "Get dif fing off meh." He tried to choke out, and as he struggled more, England discovered that he couldn't snap the rope like he had previously thought. 

What the hell? Was this super rope? No... Alfred had just tied him really fucking well. 

The Brit glared at his young lover as he moved back behind him, especially offended by the comment about his cooking. He huffed though, deciding that he would save that argument for later. After all, it wasn't often that he got to see Alfred's dirtier side and, call him curious, he was wondering where he was going to go with this idea.

Alfred laughed out loud at the death glare the smaller man shot at him, then slapped his ass while yanking on the reins of the bridal with his other hand, the mouth piece forcing England's head to jerk back uncomfortable until Al loosen his hold some. 

“I said no bitching.” Al reminded him and rubbed the red hand print he had left on Arthur's ass before guiding his dick back into England's slick hole, then pointed out boldly, “'Sides, you love this freaky shit.”

England actually yelped, much to his chagrin, before it was quickly covered by a moan... Oh god, why did that feel good? Bollocks. Alfred had a point. He really did love that 'freaky shit.' 

"Fu..." Arthur moaned through the bridle and ground his hips backwards onto America's prick, hoping he'd get the message and get the show on the road.

“Rider's in charge.” Al told Arthur, and pulled the reins tight again, tugging his head back once more and forcing the smaller man's body to remain snugly pushed back against Alfred's crotch. Despite the pleasant wiggling of Arthur's hips, the teenager forced himself to stay still as he made his lover remain in that uncomfortable position until he was still against him, then gave his ass another slap for good measure.

Once England had stopped fighting, Alfred let out a soft sigh and gradually loosened the tension on the reins as he slowly slid his cock out until just the tip remained in. Just as slowly, America then pushed back in, pulling back on the leather straps as he did so and using the bridal to direct the Englishman's movements. 

The young nation repeated the action several time, continuing the slow pace with a content hum, and any attempts on Arthur's part to control the speed was met with another sharp yack of the bridal and slap to his ass.

Arthur moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. It felt like Alfred was liable to rip his head off if he didn't pay attention, but at the same time, holy fuck, this hot. Why hadn't he taken advantage of this weakness of the American's sooner? Hot damn. 

As America slowly fucked him and, basically, punished him if he tried to chance the pace, England was vibrating as he trembled with the effort it took to restrain himself, his cock throbbing and weeping by this point. It hurt in a completely different way to let the American lead things, though. 

Keeping a steady pace, Al occasionally reached forward to run his palm over Arthur's skin as he fucked him, and didn't stop until the older man was practically shaking before him. Smiling at the result of his effort, the teen gave one last slap to his lover's reddening bare bottom before draping his body over's Arthur's back, then slipped a hand under him. “You know...” He panted, “...how to b, break a bronco, Artie?” America asked as he tweaked a nipple.

Finally, America lightly moved his hand down to tease England's cock, slowly wrapping his fist around it and stoking it in the same speed as he moved his hips. “You break his spirit.” He then told Arthur with a grin. “So if ya wanna cum...” The teen breathed against his lover's ear before nipping the rim, then stopped moving completely, his hand now wrapped tightly around the base of the Brit's hard dick to prevent him from reaching climax. “All ya gotta do is whiny for me like a filly....” America commanded, deciding to throw one last bit of indignity at the other before he would allow him to finish.

Oh, once England was back in his right mind, he was going to be plotting some serious revenge. He was talking blind-fold, chains, dubious consent revenge. Oh, he was going to fuck Alfred's shit up. Definitely... He just had to get to the point he could think again first, but when he got to that point though, oh boy, Alfred had better watch out... 

Unfortunately, all he could do at that point was moan and attempt to beg, "A-Ame-icah... p-peash..." Damn bridle. And, oh God.... Alfred's hands were torturous. This wasn't fair. This was supposed to be England driving America wild, but it had definitely taken a U-Turn from that thought. 

Then what America had actually asked him to do hit him. Had he seriously just asked him to whiny? "Fu- oo." Was the first thing England said in responds. Fuck if he was going to whiny. But, oh man... Arthur really wanted to cum. So.... He whined, rather pathetically, which was as close to a whiny as America was going to get as far as he was concerned.

“You can do better then that, Arthur.” Alfred laughed, then change tactics. Resuming his slow thrusting like before, the teen began to place light licks and kisses over the bond man's neck and back, absently nuzzling any bruises he had left on his pale flesh. “Come on, Babe... You'll whiny for me, right? For me?” Al asked sweetly, placing another kiss on his neck. “I wanna make you come, Artie, let me make you come... “

Oh God... Really. Pain and torture. England was going to make damn sure of it. He'd lure America into the Tower of London and scar the fuck out of him with some truly kinky shit. 

Regardless, he couldn't resist America's sudden sweet tactic. It was too much. At first he just sighed as if in exasperation, then he finally, truly gave in, and full out whinied, much to his embarrassment.

Al's lips stretched into a victorious grin, and he turned England’s face enough to press a kiss to his cheek before, without warning, slamming into the slim body before him hard and picking up a fast pace as he resumed stroking the other's dripping length.

Biting his lip to hold himself back, Alfred waited for the tale tale signs of England's climax, and moaned at the feeling of him clenching tightly around him as his warm seed splattered over his hand. Releasing him once he was milked dry, Al wiped his hand clean in the hay then gripped England's hips tightly.

Continuing to fuck England until he came again, deep inside of the other nation's ass, America pulled out sloppily and let out a happy sigh before flopping off to the side, to catch his breath. After a moment, he glanced over towards the still hunched form of his lover, frowning slightly at the uncomfortable looking position, before letting out a soft, 'oh' as he realized that he had forgotten to untie Arthur, and rolled over onto his side to do so.

England came much harder than he had anticipated, especially considering that it was his second time that night. Of course, he couldn't enjoy it properly, as America had 'so lovingly' left him tied up. By the time the the teen had realism it, England was giving him a rather dirty glare that clearly said, 'I am going to kill you.' 

No longer caught up in the moment, America's eyes widen when he realized that England wasn't very pleased with him, and he tried to sink down and hide in the hay. “...but you liked it.” He defended with a slight whine in his voice and gave England his best 'puppy dog eyes' look to try and save his ass.... (Literally, this time.)

As soon as his hands were untied, England was quick to remove the harness himself and toss it aside. “Bloody hell, America!" He snapped as he rubbed his sore jaw. "After this, you're not allowed to complain about bottoming."

England paused before he got to mad, then sighed. Annoyed or not, he had to handle this situation carefully or he'd risk scaring Al back into 'prude mode,' and he just couldn't have that. So instead, he slowly leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to America's lips. "You're right... I did enjoy it. A lot." He breathed lightly against the younger's lips. "But that doesn't mean that it didn't hurt, mind you." Arthur explained and kissed America again then.

Feeling a bit guilty, the sandy blond teen was able to relax when England forgave him with a kiss. “Sorry 'bout that.” He smiled in returned, glad to hear that the other has at least mostly enjoyed his spontaneous idea, and with that worry out of the way, press whatever other nagging concerns he had to the back of his mind for the time being as he allowed himself to drift back into the warm haze caused by awesome sex and booze as his lover curled up against his side to join him in a quick nap.


	4. Piss Off (England/America)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kink Meme Request: England sexing America up in the bathroom at a World Conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors: BrattyAmericat
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Water Sports, Semi-Public Sex, Dub-Con
> 
> Kink Meme Request:
> 
> I'd like to request a fill of England sexing America up in the bathroom at a World Conference. No non-con, only dub-con. I'd like some story aside from the smut, but it doesn't have to be extraordinarily long.
> 
> Bonus: Human names are used.  
> Bonus: Light watersports.  
> Bonus: They nearly get caught by one of their fellow nations, but England continues.

Just like toast always falls butter side down, stupid world conference meetings always tended to run late when your bladder was full... and America's bladder was so full it was about to explode. 

Maybe he shouldn't have brought that super sized diet coke to the meeting, Alfred silently considered as he crossed his legs in an attempt to keep from wetting his pants as his former guardian/current 'lover,' glared in his direction, most likely displeased with all of his fidgeting during his unnecessarily long speech. 

Yeah, he totally should have passed on the drink, Al firmly decided a second later, as a few stray drops managed to slip out and moisten the front of his boxers, but hind sight was twenty-twenty, he guessed.

Thankfully the meeting finally came to the end, and the moment their German host dismissed them, the young nation was out of the door in a rushed, so full that Alfred suspected that he might be waddling, but he had too piss so badly that he didn't really care about what he looked like at the moment.

It was a great relief when the American finally made his way to the men's room, and in a hurry, Alfred rushed over to the first urinal and quickly whipped his dick out... Right as someone else entered, then completely froze up. 

America had always had trouble going to the bathroom when someone else was around... It was just too.... awkward... and to make things even more awkward, his unwanted bathroom mate then took the urinal directly beside him, rather then one of the free ones farther down. 

What type of asshole did something like that?

“Hm, good evening Alfred.” Arthur Kirkland then said, answering the younger country's unspoken question, and Al grunted in reply, knowing that Arthur knew perfectly well that he couldn't 'go' with him standing right there, considering that that had been an issue of his ever since potty training.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Alfred told himself to ignore the Brit, relax, and just go.... but of course, Arthur had to pick that time to strike up a conversation.

“So, the conference really seemed to drag on today, didn't it, lad?” The English nation said casually with his dick in his hand, as a stream of yellow splashed against the porcelain in front of him, making America feel a little bit jealous that he couldn't do the same, because he REALLY wanted to hurry up and empty his throbbing bladder. 

“With the way you were fidgeting, I was almost surprised that you managed to make it to the loo without wetting yourself.” He added with a chuckle, voice smug as he shook himself dry, and the American beside him made a sound of acknowledgment as he waited for Arthur to tuck himself back into his pants and hurry up and leave already.

After what seemed like FOREVER, the Englishman FINALLY stepped away from the urinal, meaning that all Alfred had to do now was wait for Arthur to wash his hands and leave (and if he was lucky, maybe he'd be gross enough not even to wash his hands,) and he could finally relax enough to piss. 

What the American nation did not expect, however, was for England's arms to suddenly wrap around his body from behind. 

“What the fuck!” Was Alfred's expect replied, and, while smirking to himself, Arthur quickly hushed him as he caught Al's hand in his own, before the teenage nation had time to pull it away from his tight grip on his dick. “I would keep my voice down, if I were you, Luv... “ The Brit hummed to himself. “There's likely still people hovering around, tiding up their notes and what not, before leaving for the night... and I doubt that you would want any of them to come in to check and see what all the ruckus is, not when you're like 'this.'” Arthur said as he moved his hand to settle on Alfred's bloated belly, and without warning, pushed down hard on the on his bladder, forcing out a startle yip and a trail of of sparkling urine from his dick held in their combined grip. 

“Asshole.” Alfred replied with a dark blush, tone softer in hope of preventing other people from hearing their bathroom interaction, and resisted the urge to pull away from the English nation since the younger doubted that he'd be able to stop the thick stream of piss that he had been holding back, for far too long now, without the risk of getting it all over himself in the struggle. 

That would be just his luck, after all.

Arthur, in turn, seemed amused by the lack of Alfred fighting, and with full intention of taking advantage of the situation, chuckled again at the teen's plight as he 'helped' aim. 

“Oh, stop your pouting. It feels good to let it all out, and you know it.” He tsked at Alfred, who had nothing to say in responds, because, god dammit, it really did feel good to finally go. 

So, instead, he grumbled under his breath and tried to finish quickly so that he could put this whole embarrassing situation behind him.

After what felt like forever, Al finished with a sigh, then made a noise of distaste as the last bit or urine trickled down over their join hands, since he didn't exactly have the best control at the moment, thanks to Arthur's interference. 

“Feeling better?” Arthur then asked as he gave Alfred's cock a good shake before finally releasing his dick, and the younger country rolled his eyes in reply. 

“Yeah, so would you like, you know... get the fuck off me no- ow! What the fuck man!?” The sarcastic comment quickly turned into a near screech as the Englishman's pee damped hand found it's way down the back of Alfred's pants, (which were only lose enough to do so because the teenager repeatedly ignored Arthur's lectures about a belt being a existential part of a suit,) between clenched ass checks, and forced the tip of one pee soaked finger into his puckered entrance without hesitation.

“Quiet love, or someone will hear.” England reminded as the American attempted to twist out of his hold, then in order to throw his lover off guard enough to pin, pushed his finger completely inside of the other's tight body. 

Waiting for Alfred to instinctively move away from the steady burn that had followed the sharp, unexpected pain of a poorly lubed digit being forced inside of him, Arthur grabbed one of Al's arms with his free hand and twisted it behind him as he stepped forward, using his whole body to trap the other.

“Get off me!” The sandy blond teen growled again, a grimace on Alfred's face that might have been caused by either the fact that he had been forced to reach out with his free hand to prevent his body from being pushed fully against the back urinal, meaning his palm was probably now touching the waste of everyone who had pissed there that day, which might have been hundreds for all he knew, or it could have been because Arthur had mercilessly forced a second finger into his dry hole. 

“Come now... Isn't it about time that you just admit that you want this? And don't bother to deny it...” He huffed knowingly before Alfred could respond, enjoying the feel of the teen's body wiggling in his hold as he scissored his fingers in prep of what was soon to come. “After all, you could have swatted me away like a fly if you had truly wanted me to stop. Isn't that right?” The Brit purred and pushed himself up onto his tip toes to kiss the back of Al's neck, above the white collar of his shirt. “Besides... it has been awhile since we've last had any private time together.” 

When Alfred didn't say anything in reply to that comment, nor try to break way, Arthur took it as an agreement, and released the American's arm so that he could undo the button of his trousers, when the teenage nation surprised him by suddenly shoving him away.

Blinking in confusing, Arthur looked at the blushing boy who refused to meet his gaze, then grinned at what was said next. “Can't we at least... do this in a stall? Or somethin'?” He mutter, and the English man hummed to himself, as if he was considering the request, before going over to him, looping his fore fingers in Al's front belt loops, and pulling their bodies together so that they were crotch to crotch, with their forming erections pressed together.

“I suppose I can agree to that... If, in exchange, you promise to let me use you however I like in there.” Arthur bargained wickedly. “Other wise, I am perfectly content to continue right here.” 

 

“Fine.” Alfred huffed, not really pleased with the development, but not exactly displeased either. Arthur, on the other hand, was completely pleased with the development, and with a smirk firmly planted on his face, he released the younger nation and walked over to the nearest stall. Opening the door, the Brit bowed slightly and made an 'after you gesture' that earned him an eye roll and a snort, but the American complied none the less.

Following America into the narrow stall, England closed the door and locked it behind them.

“Let's get this over with before anyone shows up....” Al began, reaching up to undo the front button and grabbed the waist of his suit pants so that he could shove them and his underwear down, out of the way, but the shaggy blond Englishman snagged his wrists from behind and stopped him.

Stepping forward so that the hard bulged in his pants was pressed into the teenager's cloth covered backside, Arthur purred in reminded, “The agreement was that I get to use you any way I wish, which means we go at my speed.”

“Fine.” Alfred huffed again, sounding even more exasperated then before, but when Arthur released his wrist and reached around to slip his hand into the open zipper and cup the teen's crotch through the thin material of his boxers, causing the sandy blond teen to swallow hard, the older man was not surprised to feel the younger nation's very obvious and already hard arousal pulsing against the palm of his hand. 

Pulling his hand out with a soft chuckle as his lover whined, Arthur then pushed Alfred's trousers and under pants down, nearly to his knees. “Bend over, put your hands flat against the wall, behind the loo, and spread your legs as far as you can.” He ordered and felt a thrill shoot through his body when America, currently the most powerful being on Earth, did as he was told. Whenever the United States submitted to him like this, even if it was only in private, England would get that same thrill, and vaguely he wondered if America ever got a similar thrill when being topped by one of the former greatest Empires the planet had ever seen...

'He should.' Arthur decided to himself a bit vainly, but then pushed the thought away, perhaps to fuel a rainy day wank off session in the future, and focused on the pleasant task at hand. 

It wasn't long before the American teen sucked in a slow breath through his nose at the feeling of Arthur's calloused thumb pad rubbing small circles over his anus, and Al couldn't help but grimace at the feeling of a glob of spit landing below his tail bone and dripping down the crack of his ass to meet the teasing digit there. 

Smearing the spit over the puckered opening, Arthur slipped his thumb into Alfred's tight body with only mild resistance, and felt his own cock pulse eagerly in his pants at the feeling of tight, clenching muscles. Wiggling the digit and slowly beginning to move it in and out, the English nation reached down to palm himself as he listened to his lover's breath begin to speed up.

Fidgeting a little as he was fingered until the tight ring of muscle began to relax, America licked his lips and took a deep breath to try and keep loose as he felt the man behind him press his index finger in along side of his thumb. There was the was the faint pain of stretching as Arthur spread his digits, followed by the feeling of another disgusting glob of spit landing upon his opened hole, where the Brit wiggled his fingers to try and help the saliva seep into his lover's hot body.

The AC cooled air hitting his spit moisten hole caused goosebumps to spread across the America's tan skin as a shiver shot through his body, but it was the sound of the bathroom door opening that made them both freeze, with England's fingers still firmly shoved up the other's butt, and for a few moments, both remained perfectly still as the sound of dress shoes clicking against the tiled floor as someone walked farther into the rest room could be heard.

Luckily they were in one of those European bathroom stalls, which, unlike most American ones, hand walls and a door that reached all the way to the floor and actually provided some real privacy, so as long as they remained quit, there was no reason for whoever was out there to realize that there was anyone even there....

 

England could have been nice by patiently waiting for whoever it was to finish their business and depart, but being a former Empire, and a pirate at that, Arthur knew you didn't get what you wanted by being nice, and with a grin hidden from Alfred's view, slowly pulled his finger's from the other man's puckered hole.

Unaware of Arthur's plan, Al was too busy listening to the person outside of their stall to take notice of the Brit spitting into his palm and slicking his hard member with a thin layer of saliva, and remained clueless to the other's intent until he felt his ass cheeks being spread by nimble fingers and the blunt, moist head of his lover's cock pressing insistently against his entrance.

“Arthur!” Alfred hissed under his breath as he turned to glare over his shoulder at the older nation, and the foot steps outside came to a stop, causing America's heart to stop as well.

“Eh, no... It's me, Canada...” Canada trailed off, a bit surprised to hear his brother when he had thought the bathroom to be empty, while England silently mouthed 'quite' at his lover before his lips pulled back into an evil grin and, with out warning, he jerked his hips forward, forcing his cock in past the tight ring of muscles, all the way to the hilt, in once smooth thrust.

Despite his effort to stay quite, America couldn't hold back a chocked grunt when his entrance was stretched wide as his poorly prepared anus was suddenly filled by the British nation's erect dick. Clenching his teeth, as well as his asshole around England's invading member, Al clawed at the tiled wall and sucked in a few sharp breaths to try and work past the initial pain of penetration as Arthur let out a low groan.

“...Al?” Came Matthew's uncertain voice a moment later, and Alfred swore under his breath as he remembered that the Canadian was still in the room.

“Stomach problems.” The American lied. “Just... Just having stomach problems, Matt.” He quickly clarified, not wanting the other to ask any questions, then let out another pained gasped as Arthur gripped his hips hard enough to bruise and began to slowly thrust in and out of his lover's clenching hole.

There was another moment of silence before Matthew, who had already once again been forgotten, asked, “...Do you want me to pick up some stomach medicine from the corner store?”

“Wha? Ah, no, I... I'm fine.” Alfred panted, leaning his head forward to rest against the cool tiled wall, then gasped again as Arthur changed the angle of his thrusts, so that his dick would glaze over the teen's sweet spot each time he pushed in. “Oh! Fuck.. Fuck...”

Shifting uncertainly, Matthew stood where he was for a while longer, not wanting to leave his brother alone if he was sick, but knowing Alfred's diet, he really didn't want to be there while the American was 'having stomach problems' either, so, feeling a bit guilty about it, the Canadian nodded, even though no one was there to see him do so.  
“Ah, alright. If you need something, just call me on my cell phone... So, um, take care, eh?” Matt said awkwardly before making a swift exit.

Thankfully the door closed before there was a need to reply to the farewell, and once they were alone, Alfred exclaimed “You dick!” and took a swing at the man behind him, but due to the awkward angle, his fist didn't even manage to touched Arthur.

“Brat.” England snorted in responds, his pace not slowing, and lifted his hand high before bringing it down hard against the younger nation's buttock. Clench tightly around the English nations erection, America jerked away from his hand with a loud 'hiss' of air through his teeth, and there was a moment of silence as the Brit took the time to admire the red hand print he had left behind.

Rubbing his rough palms over his younger lover's plump butt to ease the sting, England gradually slid his hands up America's slightly chubby sides, under the sweat dampened suit coat and white shirt he still wore, then back down his back to cup and squeeze an ass cheek in each hand.

“Apologize.” Arthur demanded as he shoved his dick in to the hilt, and remained buried in Alfred's warm body as he waited for his answer.

“What? No!” America gasped, sounding nearly flabbergasted at the idea, then sucked in a sharp breath as England spanked him again. “Apologize.” The older man repeated calmly as he slid his erection out until only the tip remained in, then shoved himself back in fully in one swift motion. 

The teenage country sucked in a breath through his nose and shook his head 'no.' Closing his eyes tightly, he wanted for the onslaught of smacks that he knew was coming.

Erection bobbing before him and dripping pre-cum down into the toilet bowl under him, America squirmed and fidgeted while his ass was fucked and beaten to a bright pink. The demand for an apology was repeated several times, followed by a chocked out 'no' or a stubborn shake of Al's head as the British man continued to thrust mercilessly into the sandy blonde's now loose hole while alternating between hitting the right and left buttocks.

It wasn't long before America's dick was so hard that it hurt more then his stinging butt did, and Al cried out loudly, “Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, a-alright?!”

Hand mid-swing paused high in the air and Arthur's brutal humping slowed to a near stop as soon as the word 'sorry' was heard. “That's a good lad.” He purred in praised and lowered his hand. Sliding it along Alfred's skin, to his front then down along his chest and stomach, Arthur wrapped his hand around Al's hard cock in reward. “...Good lad...” He repeated, jerking his lover off as he aimed his thrust towards the teen's sweet spot, and with a twist of his hand and a flick of his thumb over the sensitive tip, the teenager groaned and England felt America tense then almost go almost limp after his warm seed covered his fingers and dripped down into the toilet water below. 

With America taken care of, England grabbed his lover's hips with semen coated fingers and slammed into the now lax body, preparing to use the young, bent over teen as he wished in order to reach his own climax. 

Grunting slightly at each hard thrust, Al panted lightly and focused on remaining standing as he waited for Arthur to finish. Hole sore, he couldn't help but resume squirming a little as he was fucked, then England's steady motion suddenly faltered and he slammed his hips forward one final time before slumping over as he shot his release deep inside of America with a sigh like moan. 

The two remained as they were for a while, Alfred bent over, leaning heavily against the wall with Arthur's smaller frame sluggishly resting upon him while they both fought to catch their breath, when finally, the English nation slipped his softened penis from America's well abused anus and backed off, allowing Al to stand up and stretched his muscles. 

 

“You really are a dick, you know that?” Alfred gripped as he pulled his pants back up, and Arthur shrugged as he tucked himself way in his own trousers. 

“Then I suppose that it is a good thing that you like dick. Hmm, luv?” England smirked and America huffed and rolled his eyes in reply as the Brit straightened his clothing. Giving Al's butt a quick pat, Arthur then opened the stall door, took a quick look around for any unexpected 'guests,' then headed out of the restroom before anyone could catch them.

'Without washing his hands', Alfred silently noted in disgust as he quickly cleaned up, redressed, and made it a point to wash his own hands before he left as well.


	5. Dead and Loving It (France/Canada)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew William doesn't believe in ghost... But oh boy, is he ever proven wrong when the former, deceased, plantation owner, Francis Bonneyfoy, decides to have his way with him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors: BrattyAmericat, Orchid_Kasumi
> 
> Warnings: Sexual Content, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Voyeurism, Dub-Con, Sex Toys, Ghost Sex

“It is hour four at the old Bonnefoy place, a plantation that was converted into a hotel at the turn of the century. A hotel which is supposedly... haunted! OoOooOoo!” Alfred exclaimed loudly into the hand held camcorder that was held high, in front of his face, and wiggled the camera a little for 'dramatic' effect as he did his imitation of a ghost for good measure. “Of course we haven't seen anything yet.... But the witching hour is still upon us, and with all three of us staying in a separate rooms tonight, each with our own camera running all night, we're bond to catch something on film, so stay tuned!”

Satisfied with his latest close up and cut segment, the college freshman spun the camera around and focused it on his British class mate (and current crush,) and his Canadian 'brother from another mother,' whom neither looked as excited about the ghost hunt as the overly perky American did. “Do you guys have anything you want to add, or are you just gonna continue to stand there like a bunch of lamos?” Al complained.

“I don't believe in ghosts.” Crossing his arms, the blond, English exchange student huffed and looked away. “I am just here because I need to complete a multimedia project for class credit.” Arthur said bluntly. Finding the video topic to be utterly ridiculous, he couldn't wait to go home and complain to his fairy friends about how foolish his American class mate had been this time.

“Yeah, whatever. No one could understand your accent anyway, so I don't need no quotes from you.” Alfred replied and ignored the outraged 'why I never' as he turn the camera towards Matthew. “How about you Mattie? Are you excited to be on this totally awesome ghost hunt?” He asked while attempting to amuse himself by trying to 'zoom' in and film the hair up his 'slightly' taller sibling's nose.

"No, I don't believe in ghosts either." Matthew said softly but firmly. He had come along so that Alfred and Arthur didn't argue the entire film, as well as to ensure that it did not turn it into an impromptu porno, as the British student was apparently want to do. (Or at least that was what the rumors about his scandalous behavior hinted at...)

Besides, it was better to be safe than sorry. Alfred was always over zealous and could really get himself into trouble. Despite being the younger of their duo, Matthew somehow always managed being the one that had to keep an eye on Alfred. Oh well... At least it was usually entertaining.

Usually.

"I'm just here to protect you when you become a total scaredy cat." The Canadian teased. Arthur stifled a laugh behind him but it was probably caught on camera.

Snorting, Alfred lowered the old style VHS video camera that he had found in his mother's basement and clicked it off. “I am totally brave! I even stuck it out in that creepy attic!” The college Freshman defended, and was technically telling the truth, since upon aiming his flash light beam at an old dummy covered in a bed sheet he had promptly tripped on his own untied shoe laces when he had turned to run, which had prevented him from fleeing before Arthur could explain that it was just an old mannequin used for sewing.

“Anyway....” Al began before either Matthew or Arthur had time to argue his logic, “We each got a separate room in completely different parts of the place, so hopefully being spread out will up our chances at filming something cool, but we're far enough apart that we won't be able to hear each other, so make sure to keep your cell phones in reach, alright? Oh, and don't break those cameras that I borrowed from the AV room or I'll be in deep shit, and if that happens, I'll make sure to take you two down with me, got it?” The sandy blond stated, then grinned. “Well then, unless there's any questions, I suggest that we turn in for the night... and don't forget to turn on your cameras!”

"Got it." Matthew said, waving said camera. Arthur just nodded and yawned, "The only thing that we're going to see tomorrow is who snored the loudest."

“Even your snoring probably has an accent.” Alfred said and stuck out his tongue at the young Englishman, who replied with, 'That doesn't even make sense,' and waved goodbye as the small group split up to head to their rooms. “Good night and don't let the ghosts bite!” The sandy blond called back as he rounded the corner.

When the trio split up, Matthew headed to one of the bedrooms on the first floor. Decorated in a violet and gold theme, it was just as luxurious as the rest of the plantation.... and just as lonely looking. It was right next to what used to be the ballroom. 

'Well, if ghosts really did exist... Maybe he'd get to hear some nice music?' Chuckling at the thought, he spread out his sleeping bag over the dusty duvet, set up the camera and flopped down. Only to spend the next ten minutes tossing and turning. 

Matthew sighed grumpily. He was too keyed up and had stupidly forgotten to bring any homework to keep himself busy until he was tired enough to fall asleep. Though.... he did have something else that would relieve stress and tire him out, which was better since homework would have only done the latter.

After double checking that the door was indeed locked, the Canadian rooted around to the very bottom of his backpack and withdrew... A powder blue, ribbed vibrator. 

Until the moment the blue object had been revealed, the former owner of the plantation, Francis Bonnefoy, had had little to no interest in what was going on, since groups of teenagers snooping around his place had long since become a common enough occurrence that it was not worth his time... even if, as a ghost, the amount of time he had was endless.

This, however, was different enough to catch the ghost's interest. Never before had Francis seen something quite like that.... Certainly not from his era, nor from any of the previous 'guests' who had invaded his home since his death. Tilting his head to the side, he considered the unknown item from where he sat, across the room in ripped up antique chair, where he had had been for who knew how long, listening to the music of a ball that had long since ended. 

For some reason the item reminded Francis of a, well... Of a penis. 

Laughing softly at himself, and unconsciously causing a momentary chill to the air, the French ghost shook his head at the thought. Obviously it had been far too many centuries since he had last had sex to be thinking things like that since the male genital most certainly did not come with ribs, nor was it blue. Still, his interest was peaked, so the once blond man crossed his legs and leaned back to get comfortable as he waited to see what this young man planned to do with the blue.... thing.

Swallowing hard, Matthew slid his pants off, underwear included, and tried to get comfortable on the sleeping bag. It was going to be fine... The only reason he felt watched was because he had the damn camera running... but, quite frankly, that upped his excitement a bit, (So long as he remembered to erase the film in the morning,) so he left it running.

However, Matthew was completely oblivious to his true audience.

Not feeling comfortable enough to strip down completely, Matt left his t-shirt on. Grabbing the last essential, lube, from his backpack, Matthew laid down on the sleeping bag and took a deep breath to relax. Setting the phallic object to the side, he then coated his fingers in the oily, slick substance that he had luckily remembered to bring with him. It was lightly scented, faintly floral and served to help relax Matthew even more, getting him in the proper mood despite the ridiculous location.

The blonde co-ed then slowly, almost shyly, slipped his hands between his legs. Spreading and bending his knees to expose a puckered entrance, Matthew traced his twitching hole and slowly pushed a finger inside. In spite of himself, a low moan slipped out at the pleasurable sensation of heat around his finger, and at the cool, slick digit brushing his walls.

As he watched the youth first undress before lying down and sliding a finger into his anus, Francis had been surprised, then had thought that, perhaps, he had not been wrong about the strange blue item, considering the situation, but soon stopped thinking in order to just focus on what was happening right in front of him.

Watching intently as the slim digit vanished in and out of the young man's pink, puckered hole, the Frenchman cupped his member through his pants and squeezed the growing bulge before he reached down to undo his spirit belt and slip his invisible hand into his breeches to take hold of his cock.

"Mmm... Ahh...." 

Nonsensical noises slipped from Matthews throat and threw his lips between breathy pants. Alfred had said that the rooms were far enough apart, so he didn't need to worry about being overheard by his friends, and once he got into a good rhythm, it was easy to shed the rest of his worries. 

One finger became two, then three. Desperately seeking to nudge his prostate, Matthew bucked and keened on the bed.

It was a rather lovely sight for his supernatural voyeur. His face, made pale by moonlight, caused the flush on his cheeks to stand out dark against his skin, and a slight sheen of sweat was beginning to build over his brow and body while his hand worked to get himself properly slicked up. His free hand halfheartedly groping around for the dildo, which had rolled down somewhere near his left calf, as he prepped himself.

Sliding his fist slowly along his ethereal length, the ghost licked his lips as he hungrily watched the boy work himself open. How long had it been since he had last seen such a sight was beyond him, but Francis did know that it had been far, far too long. Noticing the living blond's hand fumbling around, searching for the item he bad brought out earlier, the ghost caught his lower lip between his teeth and sucked in a breath that he did not need to take. Was the youth.... planning to do what he thought with the strange blue object?

Oh, Francis certainly hoped so.

Standing up from the chair, Francis' unbuckled trousers fell to the floor, then vanish as the ghost stepped out of them as he began to walk over to the bed. Stopping at the side of the mattress, he allowed his eyes to roam over the healthy body of a young man in his prime. The very same kind of man that Francis would have sneaked into his bedroom, under the cover of night, so very long ago...

Reaching out, the deceased man's hand stopped just short of touching the splendid young body laid out before him, and instead moved it down lower. Using stored up energy, the ghost then slid the blue object up, over the sleeping bag's surface, toward his guest's searching hand.

There it was! Humming quietly in satisfaction upon finding the dildo, Matthew made quick work of slicking it up, even if he could have gotten himself off with his fingers alone, but his wrist could only take so much... Plus the dildo could also vibrate.

As Matthew positioned the blue phallic toy against his entrance, he thought that there was an odd chill in the room but the young man was quick to shrug it off, since he was probably just feeling sweat cooling on his skin. 

Once again feeling reassured by his reasoning, Matthew eased the toy into his body and hit the switch. With a pleased moan, the living blonde was more then happy to just let the toy do the work since it was nicely pressed against his prostate, which, unfortunately, put a premature end to the best aspects of Francis' show: Matthew's involvement in his own masturbation.

Francis thanked the good Lord for his luck when the Canadian pressed the odd object against his slick hole, and groaned as he watched the blue plastic slowly vanish into the blonde's tight ass. The vibrator feature startled him, but another sound of lust soon escaped the spirit, the sound faint in the room, similar to the sound of the floor boards settling, as he imagined how good such a thing must feel. Eagerly he waited to see what his 'guest' would do next and reached down to slowly resume stroking his erection, but was disappointed when Matthew made no move to do anything new. 

'It's too soon for such a great show end.' The dead Frenchman thought with a frown, and after a moment of hesitation, reached between the Canadian's legs with his unused hand and nudge the end of the blue object, pushing the dildo firmly into Matthew's sweet spot.

Matthew, languidly floating through his own pleasure, still managed to hear the noise of Francis' moan, however, he did indeed believe that the floor was just settling. The plantation had to be centuries old, so of course it would make noise!

His hips bucked up sharply when the dildo moved inside of him to press against his prostate. The hard breathing Canadian moaned lowly and reached down to adjust the toy. He hasn't meant to clench down on the toy so hard that it would move... Having it pressed against his prostate that hard would send him over the edge too soon! 

Relaxing on the bed once more, Matthew did not leave his hands idle this time, and instead he let one wander up his shirt to tease his nipples. "Ah..." They hardened quickly, standing out against his lightly damp shirt. 

Pleased that the boy remained unaware of his involvement, since he didn't want to spook him and cause him to stop his self pleasure, Francis pulled his hand back and resumed watching and thinking about what he would have done to such a lover back in the day....

Feeling nonexistent blood fill his erection until it was so hard that it ached, the French ghost thought about how much better he could make the boy feel, how his more experienced hands would have had him practically screaming in pleasure...

All at once, Francis wanted to touch the stranger's body more then anything. 'Damn with consent', he thought, since he obviously wasn't going to heaven anyway, considering his current place stuck between worlds. Reaching out once more, the ghost ran a single cold finger lightly along the seam of the youth's testes, and up along the vein of his hard dick as Matt played with his nipples.

Matthew recognized that there was something completely unnatural going on when a very icy trail was stroked along the blood filled, sensitive skin of his cock and balls.

With a rather undignified noise. Matt sat up and looked around, unintentionally pushing the vibrator deep inside of him and causing him to moan loudly.

Having been caught, the ghost saw no reason to hold back. Once again tapping into stored up energy, Francis place his hand over Matthew's heart and pushed the Canadian back down onto the mattress, and climbed on top of the living boy, straddling him, to hold him down and prevent his escape. Quickly, Francis then shoved Matt's shirt back up and bent down to take one of his nipples into his mouth and flicked at the hard numb with a cold tongue before he began to suckle it.

'There was no one in the room. He was alone...' Matthew's weak reassurances were broken off in an audible gasp as something chilly pressed down over his chest, right over his heart. The chill seemed to seep into his very being as Matthew found himself pinned to the bed by an invisible force. His mind began to spin as something ,or someone, lifted his shirt up and a cold wet, equally invisible something traced around one of his pert nipples. 

Equally aroused and terrified, Matthew tried to squirm or cry out for help, but, all he managed was a pathetic little moan as his unearthly assailant pleasured him.

Panting and clutching at the well rumpled sleeping bag, Matthew turned his head from side to side, trying his best to see who or what was on him. "Who's there?" He mewled out before letting out a shocked gasp as his vibrating dildo struck his prostate once more.

Though the human was scared, but the sounds of pleasures and gasps escaping the boy was more then enough to encourage the spirit to continue what he was doing. Rolling his tongue around the nub that had harden nearly instantly at his cold touch, Francis released it and paused to consider answering Matthew, since he had no problem with him knowing who was about to give him one of the best rounds of sex in his young life, but ended up just shaking his head and mouthing his other nipple instead.

There was no point in trying to talk to the living. It took a lot of energy, and the last time he had tried to speak to a human, the ghost recalled that his polite request for them to 'wipe their muddy feet before they came in and tracked filth all over the place' was completely misheard and mistook for some sort of demonic threat, which resulted in the ghost having to deal with priest after priest coming into his home, uninvited, whom had burned smelly incense and splash water over all of his things. It had all been very irritating.

Pushing the memory aside in favor of creating a much better one, Francis caught Matt's nipple between unseen teeth and tugged lightly before letting it slip free, then began to roll his hips and grind down onto the young man's erection as he moved his lips up to Matt's throat and let a cold breath gaze over his neck before latching onto the skin above the youth's pulse and softly beginning to suck.

Matthew whined and writhed under the assault, shivers from the pleasure, fear, lust, and chill rolled through his body. The young man halfheartedly pushed and struggled under the entity pinning him to the bed, but while he could feel what the spirit, (for what else could it be,) was doing to him, he could do nothing to stop it... He couldn't even feel the thing above him, save for where lips and hips were making delicious contact against his skin.

"Why are you doing this?" He groaned to the seemingly empty room as phantom lips turned their attention to his neck, a weak spot, and Matthew felt himself begin to relax. 

Matt couldn't stop it.... Should he just enjoy it...?

"Just don't... Don't hurt me." He pleaded to the thing.

'If the boy had wanted to talk, he should have bought an Ouija board with him.' The ghost thought with a roll of his eyes, then tried to remember the taste of sweaty, salty skin as he ran the flat of his tongue along the side of Matthew throat, but stop suddenly upon hearing the young man's plea.

Feeling a little guilty, Francis leaned back and smiled a comforting smile that couldn't be seen by the other as he reached out to cup Matthew's cheek in his hand. Leaning back down, he pressed a quick kiss to the Canadian's lips as a sign that he did not wish to hurt him, but the ghost had no intention of stopping when the youth showed so many signs of enjoying what was happening, the erection he could feel digging into his back side being just one of them.

Matthew was completely taken by surprise when the thing molesting him pressed a kiss to his lips! A startled squeal left the living being as he stared up at well, nothing, but after a heartbeat's hesitation, he kissed back, and allowed the spectral tongue to guide him. 

Pleased when the young man not only accepted his advances, but began to hesitantly respond as a lover would, Francis reward him by deepening the kiss while resuming the gentle rocking of his hips. Teasing the Canadian's tongue with his own, the ghost couldn't believe how hot Matthew's mouth was. 

Breaking the kiss, since Matthew needed air even if Francis didn't, the French ghost continued to rotate his hips in slow circles, grinding down on the hard length beneath him to provide steady friction. Licking his lips, the once blond man glanced back over his shoulder, towards the steady sound of the vibrator. 

As the kiss broke, Matthew laid on the bed, taking in all of the sensations running through him. A male ghost was grinding down on him, he could feel the others erection whenever it brush against his, and he moaned at the feeling. "I'm having sex with a ghost..." Matt thought aloud, feeling a mixture of foolish, aroused, and terrified. "Or at least doing foreplay with one." He amended.

Reaching behind him, Francis gripped the end of the blue dildo between slim, nimble fingers and pulled it nearly all of the way out, then waited for the anticipation to build before shoving it back in fully.

Anything else the living man would have said was then cut off in another moan as Francis thrust the vibrator inside of him. Matthew's hips bucked up, roughly grinding himself against the spirit as he clutched at the fabric beneath him. "Oh... Please do that again." He whined up at his invisible fuck buddy.

Francis laughed, but complied. Pulling the phallus shaped object out then pushing it back in smoothly, the ghost then fucked the man for a while with the blue dildo, enjoying the sounds Matt made while he squirmed under him. 

'The boy really was beautiful like this', Francis thought, and the Frenchman would have happily teased him all night long had he still been alive, but alas, as a spirit he only had so much energy that he could spare at any given time, so after making sure to strike Matthew's prostate a few more times, Francis then pulled out the plastic sex toy and tossed it aside.

The young man under him gave a soft whimper as the toy was removed and he watched it hover in the air for a moment before being thrown aside. "Hey, what are you doing!?" Matthew pouted. He had been so close too! 

Smiling in reply, the ghost bent over to whisper words that he wasn't sure would be heard into Matthew ear, “Roll over onto you hands and knees, mon cher, and let big brother Francis take good care of you.~” 

Sliding off of the Canadian, Francis slipped down between the blonde's spread knees, where the ghost sat and waited to see if his young, lively lover would comply.

The softly accented words put a chill down his spine and heat in the pit of his stomach. For the first time, Matthew heard his 'lover's' voice. Swallowing hard, he did just as Francis had ordered. 

Turning over on to hands and knees, he bit his lip as he tried to get comfortable with exposing himself in this position. "Francis, eh? My... My name is Matthew." He replied, feeling like reciprocating, if only to break the minor tension he was feeling now that they were approaching the actual fucking part.

The ghost watched as the Canadian did as requested, and as far as he was concerned, the boy willingly getting onto his hands and his knees on his own was full consent on his part.

Absently, Francis nodded as the other spoke, having heard several names mentioned while the three young men had wondered through his plantation earlier, but it was good to know which name went with the man he would soon going to be fucking.

Shifting closer, the ghost knocked his knee into Matthew's to make the youth spread his legs even wider, then Francis grabbed one round ass cheek in each hand hand squeezed them together before pulling to apart to expose the pink, puckered butt hole, still shiny with lube, hidden between.

Matthew gasped as he was spread by unseen, frigid fingers, and thanked the South for its long summers, otherwise his cold touch might have been unbearable, erection be damned. 

Matt spread his legs and felt more of Francis body pressing against him, and couldn't help but wondered if the man would make an appearance.

Matthew vainly hoped that Francis was handsome and wished that he had brought something to help aid speaking with ghosts, considering that this impromptu fuck was probably the most interesting thing to happen to him in his whole life. Oh well... At the very least he'd have a good ghost story to tell when he got shit faced at a party back on campus.

"A-are you just going to stare all night?" He murmured, burying his face against the sleeping bag as a blush heated his cheeks.

Snorting, the French spirit gave a sharp slap to one of the rounded mounds of flesh before him, not liking to be rushed, even if he did have a limited amount of time, and went back to rubbing and squeezing Matt's ass for a while longer before finally reaching down to grip the base of his own erection.

Spreading Matthew's buttocks apart with one hand, Francis lined himself up with the twitching hole and teasingly rubbed the blunt head of of his erection over it.

Matthew gritted his teeth after the slap and tried to bare with the ghost's actions. 

Goosebumps rose up everywhere Francis touched him, but it only heightened his arousal at this point. What a way to find out that he was into temperature play....

However, Matthew could not muffle the slight yelp that came when he actually felt Francis' cock pressing against his twitching ass. The ghost felt like ice! 

Teeth clicking a little, Matthew stuck his foot in his mouth with the unintentional complaint, "Is there no way to warm you up a little? Can't you draw energy from something?" He paled as he realized that he might have insulted the ghost. "I-Im sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in anyway!"

Francis rolled his eyes again. Nothing about death was warm. It was like living in Russia. 

Still, the ghost wasn't offended, but not really being able to tell the college student any of that, he rubbed Matthew's hip in a silent apology, then let out a soft groan as he began to push the head of his dick into the boy's hot, tight hole.

Matthew bit down on the sleeping bag, muffling any noises he might have otherwise made. He didn't want Francis to worry, but it felt like he was having a chilled, glass dildo slowly being pushed inside of him! It was just too much! But, at the same time, Matthew didn't want to stop... It was cold but it also felt good too, feeling his ass stretched and spread around the ghost's cock as it pushed in deeper and deeper.

Slowly pushing into the willing body until he was fully sheathed inside of the Canadian's body, Francis couldn't believe how hot he felt! He was sure that hell fire was the only other thing that could be this hot, though the Frenchman highly doubted that hell fire would feel anywhere near this good.

Giving them both a second to adjust, Francis grabbed his 'lover's' hips to hold the man steady, pulled out until just the tip remained in, then jolted his hips forward, impaling Matthew on his dick and beginning the relentless pace of a man that hadn't gotten a good lay in decades.

Matthew could no longer contain any noises. He moaned and mewled as the rough pace jerked his face up and away from the bed as his body moved with the ghost. Francis must have been holding back if he had the ability to move him this much! 

Pushing himself up a bit and looking back over his shoulder, Matthew had half expected to see the materialized form of the ghost, however, he was instead met with the lewd sight of his reflection in the mirror against the wall. His back was arched, lips parted in a pant with his face flushed, but perhaps the most erotic and seemingly impossible sight of all: he could see his own ass spread wide open, and watched as it twitched and clenched in time with Francis' movements. "Oh god...." 

Teeth clenched in concentration, the ghost looked back to see what had caught the young man's attention, and grinned upon noticing the sight in the mirror. Pulling his dick all the way out, Francis watched as Matthew's anus slowly closed, then gradually spread open once more as he pushed back in. Repeating this a few times to enjoy the erotic sight, he then resumed his previous pace, wanting to ensure that he finished before he drained all of his remaining energy. 

Leaning back over Matthew and resting his chest against the college student's back as he fucked him hard, making sure to go as deep as possible with every thrust, Francis reached around his torso. Sliding his hands under the loose shirt, he ran his cold palms over the Canadian's sides and chest before playing with his nipples again.

Matthew rocked with the invisible force fucking him. His eyes were closed since it didn't matter, (he couldn't see his partner anyway,) and focused on the feeling of the cock moving inside of him... but it wasn't quite enough. Not yet. 

"Please..." Matthew panted, reaching down to touch his own aching cock. "Touch me here. I... I'm so close."

“Oui, oui...” Francis murmured against the nape of Matt's neck, and slid one hand lower, down over the Canadian's stomach, and gripped the you man's hard erection in a firm, cool grip. Moving his hand in time with his thrusts, the ghost panted out of habit, even though it have been a very long time since he had actually drawn his last breath.

His cock slid easily between Francis' fingers and Matthew moaned even louder. Just a little bit more... Soon Matthew was pushed over the edge and into orgasm, crying out at the overwhelming pleasure as he splattered his seed all over the blanket. 

Even though finished, Matthew made himself keep moving, tightening his ass pleasurably around Francis's cock but... Could ghosts even come? 

When Matthew's cum – literally- shot through the ghost fingers and down onto to sleeping bag under them, Francis was satisfied that he had done his part as a good lover by making sure his partner had received his pleasure first, and paid no mind to the small mess. 

Sitting back on his knees and gripping the Canadian's hips once more, the Frenchman focused on his own pleasure. In, out, in, out, he thrusted, pounding into the blonde's ass and pulling the human's body back to meet his hips with every forward thrust until his movements became unsteady and frantic, then, without warning, Francis moaned as he slammed in one last time and shot his ice cold release, a cum like ectoplasm, deep inside of Matt's bowels. After a few long moments he pulled out and watched as his release dripped from the Canadian's well fucked hole.

Matthew groaned when he felt his stomach fill with the ghostly come. "Fuck..." He said as the ghost pulled out, and looked down at the ectoplasm dripping from his ass. "..." 

It would have been gross if it didn't feel good. Slowly, he tried to turn around, "Was that good for you Francis?"

Grinning at the question that had an obvious answer, Francis chuckled and rubbed his palm softly over Matthew's bruised hip as a gesture of 'thanks' before fading away as his last bit of energy was used, leaving the Canadian alone in a room full of nothing but old, broken, dusty antiques, and a faded portrait over the bed of a handsome, young, blond man, whom looked a lot more content in the painting now, then he had when Matt had first entered the room.

Realizing that he was alone, Matthew flopped down and stared up at the painting for a moment before realizing that this was probably the man whom he had just screwed. Probably. Grinning lazily to himself, Matthew wrapped the soiled sleeping bag around himself and drifted off easily.


End file.
